


There's Things That I Wanna Say

by CapedCommissioner (smittenbritain)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Barry Allen Is A Human Vibrator, Barry Allen has a big dick, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/CapedCommissioner
Summary: Hal wasn't straight. Barry wasn't either, but didn't know where to start with guys. Naturally, the best thing for Hal to do was stick his foot in his mouth and suggest that Barry practice on him.It was a good idea, in theory. Hal just wasn't great at planning ahead, and he hadn't factored in his mile-wide crush on Barry until he was in too deep.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Hal Jordan
Comments: 81
Kudos: 132





	1. First Base

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic in a fevered few weeks. The idea absolutely REFUSED to release me until it was done. I'm ridiculously invested in this fic, and it's stupidly indulgent and long for what the base concept is.
> 
> Thanks to DynamicDuo for giving me the ideas for the chapter titles and reading it over as I wrote it! <3
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers, do not interact.

If Hal tried to recall how everything started, he wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. He knew _who_ had started it and _why,_ but not the how. That had sort of gotten lost in translation during their first proper makeout on Barry’s couch.

The rest was simple, though. Barry had been why, and Hal had been the one to start it.

Really, it was simple math. Hal was open about his sex life - sometimes too open, he’d been told by Batman with a disapproving little frown, but honestly, Hal blurred the lines between jokes and real life half of the time - and Barry, well.

Barry was _interested._

There had been a night a few years back where the topic of Hal’s sexuality had come up. He’d mentioned exactly how he’d celebrated coming home from Oa just a few days prior, and rather than roll his eyes and laugh it off, Barry had cocked his head, tipped back another swallow of his beer, and he’d asked what it was like sleeping with a guy.

Or, more accurately, he’d _asked_ if he could ask what it was like, which was so painfully Barry that Hal’s heart had fluttered in a way that had started to be far too common around him.

They had talked, Barry had admitted somewhat awkwardly that he wasn’t entirely straight, or at least he didn’t think so, he wasn’t entirely sure and he hadn’t made any attempts to figure it out past watching a little porn, and Hal had made some attempt at a rousing speech to encourage him. He’d gone ahead and let him ask whatever he wanted, which wasn’t much, because Barry was too polite to ask for any really filthy details. He wasn’t sure if the message got there - or what the message even was, really - but Barry had seemed reassured, at least, and that had been that for a while.

* * *

“So,” Hal said, dropping onto the couch next to Barry, two beers in hand. He passed one over, and he popped the cap off of his own with a lazy twist of a green, constructed fist. “How’s the dating game going? Anyone new?”

It had been a long couple of months since he’d last visited. Oa had kept him busy up in space, and this was the perfect way to unwind after a trip back home - well, there was also settling in at a bar with the hope of the touch of someone else’s hand at the end of the night, but that was something he did _separately._ Barry starred plenty in his dreams when he was alone, and maybe Hal did find himself drawn to blonds when he went looking for someone to scratch a particular itch, but that was for Hal to decidedly _not_ think about in the morning after. 

This was different. This was time with his best friend, an opportunity to sit and watch sports and shoot the shit, and if his heart raced whenever Barry smiled, that was his own business to deal with.

Barry grimaced. He didn’t open up his beer yet; Hal watched him prop it up between his knees and fiddle with the cap as he stared down at it. “Not... great. I… I’ve been trying to, uh.” His cheeks turned pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wanted to… see how things were with guys,” he said eventually.

“Ah,” Hal replied intelligently. He knocked back a mouthful of his beer as he mulled over what to say. “How’d it go?”

Barry finally pulled the cap off of his beer and took a sip. “I don’t know how to start,” he sighed. “Theoretically, I know it should just… It should just be like flirting with a girl, right?” He waited for Hal’s encouraging nod, and then he continued, emboldened. “But it still feels different. I want to try this out, see if it’s more than just appreciation or whatever, but I’m a learn by doing kinda guy, which is kind of hard to do if I can’t _get_ to the doing.”

He was babbling, almost a little too fast for Hal’s much more human ears, but still restrained enough that he could figure out where Barry was going with it. They were sat close enough that Hal could knock his knee against Barry’s, and just that one touch was enough to make his mouth snap shut.

“Relax,” Hal said, smiling easily, and just that made the tension in Barry’s shoulders dissipate. “C’mon, detective, where did you go wrong?”

Barry rolled his eyes. “I’m not a detective,” he muttered, as if that was the important part of the conversation. “And I don’t know, the whole thing? Whenever I tried flirting, it just… came out as conversation instead.”

Ah, the return of Barry ‘too damn friendly’ Allen. It was probably how their friendship had lasted so long, to be honest; most other people found ways to either ignore Hal or bounce off of him, but Barry had always embraced him despite how different they were. Where some found Hal to be too cocky or abrasive, Barry apparently saw something more genuine, though what that was, Hal - and the rest of the world - had no idea.

“Practice makes perfect,” Hal said, lifting his beer to his lips again.

Barry pouted down at his knees. “Again: can’t get it if I don’t know how to start.”

“Pickup lines,” Hal said, raising an eyebrow. “Or there’s this new thing called just generally _flirting._ It’s how I get, like, ninety percent of my hookups.”

“And the other ten percent?”

Hal grinned and waved down at himself. _“All_ of this, baby.”

Barry rolled his eyes, but he was finally smiling again. “Gee, thanks. I’m glad that works for you, but we can’t all be handsome test pilots.”

His heart did a traitorous little thing in his chest, something that felt like a flicker of recognition. Barry had called him _handsome._ It was different coming from him, more real even when it was still a gentle joke about his admittedly very good looks. Hal buried himself in another sip of his beer, thankful for the coolness of it as he swallowed hard. 

This wasn’t about him and his crush. This was about Barry.

“So get some practice,” he said eventually, carefully trapping his beer bottle between his knees. “There’s no shame in not getting anywhere sometimes. It just means you can figure out which openers work and which don’t.”

Barry sunk back into the couch cushions with a sigh. He tipped his head back so he could stare at the ceiling, and Hal tried not to lose himself in the defined shape of his jaw. It really was a very nice jaw, he thought idly, cocking his head. He could cut himself on that jaw.

“I’m not like you, Hal,” Barry murmured, eyes downcast now. There was a sad little twist at the corner of his mouth, and Hal felt a little pang in his chest. “I don’t… Going out and flirting at bars isn’t my thing. I’m looking for a _date,_ not a hookup. I mean, ideally, it’d… you know, get to the same place eventually, but.” Barry stopped himself short, his cheeks flushing. He didn’t continue.

Hal swallowed hard. He bit back all of the jokes that rose to the surface of his tongue - _‘Well, there goes my plan for tonight_ ’ was right there among them, not that he’d ever dare to say it - and instead tried to find something sincere to say. With anyone else, that’d be one of the hardest things in the world, but Barry always made it easy.

“Doesn’t have to be a sexy pickup line,” he said, knocking his knee against Barry’s fondly. “It can be funny, you know. You see a nice guy at the grocery store and say something in the cereal aisle to make him laugh, that kind of thing. Boom. Take him out to brunch, and you’ve got yourself a date.”

Barry rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He was frowning, and his forehead wrinkled up just a little bit. It was kind of adorable. “How do you even come up with something funny to say in the cereal aisle?”

Hal shrugged. “I just wing it, man. You know me, I don’t plan shit. You could probably Google it.” He paused, saw the way Barry’s eyelids flicked open, and he added, “Don’t Google it. You’ll get the same shit everyone else has already used.”

“God,” Barry groaned, slumping down just a little further. His shoulders were almost level with his knees now, and his long legs stuck out way over the edge of the couch. The coffee table scooted a couple inches away as his shins pressed against it. “Why is this so hard?”

“No idea,” Hal said cheerfully, polishing off his beer. He peered past Barry, considering just _how_ much Barry would roll his eyes if he snagged another one with a mini constructed crane. “Are you this bad with girls?”

“Yeah,” Barry said miserably. 

Hal lifted his hand, and as he concentrated, his ring glowed. He grinned as he set up the construct, and he decided to have a little fun with it, pretending it was a crane game and the beer bottles were the plushies at the bottom of the cabinet. Shit, _that_ would’ve been a good construct. He made a mental note of that for next time. “How?” he asked, shooting Barry a look. “How the fuck did you manage to get with Iris in the first place?”

“She made the first move,” he muttered. The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of Barry’s mouth as a beer floated past his face, carried away by the claws of the bright green crane in his living room. 

“And before that?”

“I don’t… Hal, opportunities just kind of fell in my lap. I’m just not good at making the first move.”

Hal took his beer with a triumphant grin, and as he opened it up, he propped his feet up on the coffee table. “You know,” he said, letting his mouth run away with him, because he had _meant_ it when he said he never planned anything, “if you wanna practice so bad, you can just practice on me.”

Barry blinked at him. “You’re serious?”

“Yup.” Hal shrugged. “What’s the harm? It’s just pickup lines. We can even roleplay it if you want, we’ll pretend your kitchen island is a bar.”

Barry laughed quietly, and Hal felt that telltale shiver in his chest again. Oh, there was definitely very real harm here, mostly for Hal, but he was good at hiding his feelings. He’d been doing it for years at this point. And at the end of the day, if it brought them a few laughs and Barry ended up happy, why not? That was what mattered most.

“Alright,” Barry sighed, draining his bottle. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll figure out some lines to try out, and then next time we hang out-”

“Nope.” Hal held up a hand. “Surprise me with them. I’ll give you my genuine reaction.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Okay, then I’ll surprise you with them. Either way, I’m gonna need to figure out some material first.”

Hal waved that same hand, and then let it drop to the couch to search amongst the cushions. The remote was there somewhere. “Whatever works for you, Barry. I’m ready whenever you are. What do you wanna watch tonight?”

It was easy to slide back into their regular kind of night after that, and when Hal eventually settled in on Barry’s couch for the night with the buzz of shitty beer in his veins, he pretty much forgot all about the conversation.

* * *

“Do you drink soda?”

Hal frowned at the TV, head cocked as he ran Barry’s question through his mind again. He paused, TV remote in hand, and twisted to peer over the back of the couch and into Barry’s kitchen. He had his back to Hal as he fiddled with something in the fridge, bottles clinking against each other as he searched. Quite frankly, Hal had no idea what he was doing or why he’d asked; they usually had beer on these nights, and they both had a habit of grabbing a fresh pack on their way over. Hal knew that there were six perfectly good bottles in the fridge.

“Sure,” he said carefully, “but why?”

Barry closed the fridge door firmly. There was the faintest flush on his cheeks, and there were two beers in his hand. All was right with the world there, at least, Hal thought, but something else was definitely up. Barry didn’t meet his eyes, and he didn’t make his way over to the couch yet.

“Because,” he said, finally looking up, “you’re _so-da-licious.”_

It took Hal a painfully long moment to understand what he was doing. When he did, he struggled not to crumple right then and there; he pressed his lips together, but it didn’t stop him from snorting. Barry looked just a little more flustered, and Hal clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles.

“Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed, waving a hand at him, “I just, I didn’t- _so-da-licious?”_

“I know,” Barry sighed, finally heading over. He set their beers down on either side of the pizza box, and then busied himself with grabbing a slice. “I thought it’d be a good starting point.”

God, Barry was adorable. Hal almost wanted to reach over and pinch his cheek, just to make him blush that much harder, but he decided to show some mercy and help himself to some pizza instead. “Sorry, Bar,” he said, “but I don’t get out of bed for a line like that.” 

“Well,” Barry said, and something in his voice made Hal pay attention, his lips twitching with suppressed humour, “I love my bed, but I’d rather be in yours.”

Hal barked out another laugh. _“Perfect!_ That’s how you turn it around! More like that, and you’ll be on a date in no time.”

* * *

Another night saw them at Hal’s place instead, flicking through different takeout menus. Barry could eat through food like nobody’s business, so it was always in the best interests of his cupboards for them to just get something quick and easy, and if that happened to be a mountain of delivered food, so be it. He was always hungry after his run over to Coast City, and Hal couldn’t afford to make a giant batch of something from scratch. They could, however, split the cost this way, so it had become something of a tradition.

“Any cravings?” Hal asked, plopping his chin in his hand as he looked over the spread. Leaflets were piled up on his coffee table, spread just enough that they could see what kind of food they promised. “Chinese? Indian? Good old pizza?”

“We had pizza last time,” Barry said. 

“Okay, scratch pizza off the list.” Hal flicked the menu away with a giant green finger. “What else?”

Barry hummed, long and considering, but he didn’t follow it up with an answer. Hal glanced up lazily, only to have his attention snag on something, so he lingered, searching Barry’s face for answers. It didn’t take long to find them.

He was looking at the coffee table, but his gaze was unfocused. He was somewhere far away, lost in thought as he stared at a point near the corner of the table. 

Hal wiggled his fingers in front of his face. “Barry?”

Barry blinked. “Hm?”

“Lost you there,” Hal said, smiling at him. “What’s up?”

“I-” Barry snapped his mouth shut, and to Hal’s surprise, a delicate pink blush stole across his cheeks. “Nothing.”

Well, that wasn’t going to throw Hal off. He was a very stubborn dog with a bone when he wanted to be, and this was one of those times. Whatever was bothering Barry had _him_ to deal with now.

He bumped his shoulder against Barry’s, deliberately jostling him. “You’re not getting off that easily. What is it?”

Barry puffed out a breath through his nostrils. He looked down at the table more deliberately this time, sifting through the scattered leaflets with a few brushes of his fingers, sorting them more quickly than was strictly necessary. “Even if I get a date,” he muttered, “I don’t know what to do from there. I don’t know what to expect.”

Ah.

Hal carefully averted his gaze. Hopefully, Barry would just think he was suddenly very interested in the burger menu. “You wanna know what it’s like to kiss a guy.”

Barry made a quiet, frustrated noise. “Again, I know it’s probably not that different-”

“It is and it isn’t,” Hal said, shrugging. He’d never really thought about it. He’d kissed a hell of a lot of people, but he was usually focused on enjoying the kiss rather than thinking about the little details. At the end of the day, Hal was a simple man. 

“That doesn’t help me now, though,” Barry grumbled, rubbing the side of his face. “Like, where do I put my hands, do guys like it- I don’t know, softer or harder than girls-”

“Different strokes for different folks,” Hal said simply. He fiddled with the corner of the leaflet in his hands, bending it back and forth. “It’s not that complicated, Barry, I promise. You just kiss him.” 

Barry’s lower lip stuck out in a slight pout. “Easier said than done.”

And then, because apparently Hal was desperate to shoot himself in the foot over this whole thing, he tossed the menu down on the table and said, “If you’re that worried, then try it out on me.”

Silence. Barry’s eyes had gone just the slightest bit wide, and they had fixed on Hal’s like he held the secrets of the universe. Hal snapped his mouth shut, and he really hoped he wasn’t blushing; the last thing he needed was for Barry to know that he had a horse in this race. That’d really fuck up the whole ‘just trying to help his friend’ agenda - because, Hal reminded himself, that was all this was, any of it. It deliberately wasn’t about his crush, and it was entirely to do with the fact that he’d kiss damn near anyone who said yes. 

“You’d do that?” Barry asked, eyebrows raised.

Hal gave him an easy smile. “If it helps you fucking _relax,_ sure. I don’t mind, dude.”

Barry licked his lips. He seemed to flounder for a second, and Hal was about to tell him to just forget it when Barry asked, “Are you a raisin?”

Hal blinked. “What?”

“Because you’re a-raisin’ my hopes for a kiss right now.”

“Oh my God,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands, “that is the _dumbest_ fucking- Get over here, Barry, I swear-”

Barry laughed, openly delighted as he scooted closer to Hal, and he tried to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears. No problem here, Hal thought, he was only about to kiss his best friend. That was fine, that was perfectly, totally fine.

God, he was an idiot.

“You’ve kissed someone before, right?” Hal asked, sitting up properly again.

Barry scowled at him. “I’m inexperienced with men, not a _virgin,_ Hal.”

“Right, just checking, because you’re really fucking acting like one over this whole thing.”

“I can find someone else to kiss-”

“Can you? Because I seem to remember you complaining that you couldn’t get past introducing yourself, so…”

They trailed off into fits of laughter, knees knocking as they turned to face each other. Barry’s hands were resting on his thighs, and for the moment, he seemed to be holding onto them for dear life. There were nerves under the mirth still lingering on his face; Hal knew him well enough to spot the little crease in his brow, the slight tilt to his lips that meant there was something underneath the smile.

“Relax,” he said, reaching over to give his wrist a squeeze. “Look, if you don’t want to, you can change your mind.”

“I do,” Barry promised, pink blossoming over his cheeks. “I do want to, I mean.”

Oh, that was too cute. Hal forced himself to look Barry in the eye, just so he didn’t have to take it in too much. He was a goner if he did. “Then get over here,” he teased, tugging on his arm.

Barry moved closer, and then he paused when their noses were a few inches apart. He seemed to be struggling with something; his hands hovered, one over Hal’s knee and the other near his elbow, as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. Hal rolled his eyes and took the initiative, resting his politely on Barry’s ribs and hoping he’d do the same when he was ready.

“Okay,” Barry breathed, tilting his head just a little. Hal realised with a little thrill that it was so their noses wouldn’t knock, and it hadn’t escaped his notice that the way Barry naturally did it fit _perfectly_ with how Hal kissed, too. 

Gently, Hal drummed his fingers against his sides. “S’just me, Bar.”

Their noses bumped anyway. It was endearing, though, especially when Barry laughed quietly under his breath. “I know.”

Something about that stuck with Hal; as Barry closed the scant distance between them, he knew for a fact that it was going to haunt him for years to come. He suppressed the little shiver that wanted to work its way down his spine, and instead he flattened his palms against Barry’s sides as their lips brushed together.

It was tentative, almost sweet. Barry’s hands jumped from place to place: first on his side where there was no familiar curve, and then the back of his head and the sharp line of his jaw. Even then, they didn’t rest; he felt more than heard Barry’s quiet inhale as they kissed again, and his fingers drifted over Hal’s shoulders.

“Relax,” Hal murmured, reaching up just to trap Barry’s hands there. “What’re you doing?”

“Checking the differences,” Barry replied, the words buzzing against Hal’s lips. 

Hal hummed in quiet understanding. That made sense. Barry never could properly turn off being a scientist even for one second; he wasn’t sure why he was so surprised to find out that he was trying to categorise everything even now, when this was the perfect opportunity to shut down his brain. 

They parted naturally a few presses later. Barry’s hands slipped away from Hal’s shoulders, and his mind buzzed with a quiet thud of _Barry, Barry, Barry_ that it was damn near impossible to silence. Even now, as Hal tried desperately to appear casual and friendly, he felt the way his brain neatly chopped up the last few minutes and tucked it away for later, right about when he’d want to guiltily think about the rasp of Barry’s stubble and the softness of his lips.

“So,” Hal said, cracking a smile that he didn’t entirely feel, “how was that?”

Barry’s face was a little red. He cleared his throat and politely looked away as he tucked his hands together between his knees. “I- Nice. It was… nice.”

“Only nice? Come on, I’ve been told I’m better than _nice.”_

Barry rolled his eyes. “Okay, _very_ nice. It’s… definitely something I’d like to do again.”

Hal knew that there was an implied ‘with other men’ tacked onto the end of that sentence, clipped off only because Barry was polite. It was still a subtle knife to the ribs, tucked in just so that Hal wouldn’t quite feel the blade until it suddenly twisted. 

“Thank you,” Barry added almost awkwardly. “You didn’t have to, you know. It probably isn’t the, uh… most _exciting_ kiss you’ve ever had.”

Oh, if only Barry knew. “You’re a good kisser,” Hal promised, inclining his head with a lazy smile. “Nine out of ten, marked down only because of the fumbling.”

“Well, I didn’t want to _assume-”_

Hal flicked his knee. “Then ask. Speaking of, what do you want for dinner?”

It was all too easy to slip back into the regular flow of their evenings, even while his lips still tingled with the memory of Barry’s. Hal occupied himself with ordering their food and finding something suitable to watch - preferably with no romance, because he wasn’t sure he could handle meeting Barry’s gaze after that if a couple decided to make out on screen - and he just did his best not to look below Barry’s eyes for the rest of the evening. 

* * *

The thing was, it was only the first time of many.

They were at Barry’s again when it came up, fresh after Hal had arrived back from Oa. He’d foregone his usual routine, and simply stopped straight in Central City rather than Coast. He had plenty of clothes at Barry’s anyway, abandoned there for the sake of ease considering how frequently they stayed over at each other’s places. There was no real reason to stop at home first, not when Barry had excitedly texted him over the finale of whatever show Hal had missed while he was in space.

Skipping his routine meant, however, that he hadn’t had any chance to blow off steam first. That wasn’t a problem, of course - Hal’s right hand worked just fine, and did for most of the time he was on Oa - but when Barry looked at him a little too shyly and, in typical Barry fashion, asked if he could ask something, Hal had a feeling that he knew where it was going.

“Sure,” he chirped anyway, settling back into his side of the couch. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering,” Barry said, shifting awkwardly where he sat, “if we could… repeat what happened last time.”

Hal almost choked on his very first sip of his very first beer back on Earth. “The- The kissing?”

“Yeah.” Barry apparently refused to make eye contact, and instead squinted at somewhere just behind his TV stand. “Because, okay, kissing is easy, but the, uh…” He trailed off, lost for words, and only now did he look Hal’s way, as if he could hand Barry whatever he was missing. “The part after that but before clothes come off,” he said, and then he stopped right there, apparently satisfied that that made total sense.

The thing was, it did. Hal knew what he meant: the build up, the teasing space between just a little kissing and sex. 

Barry wanted to make out.

In any other situation, Hal could have cried and given thanks to whatever deities were out there for bringing him this chance, but this wasn’t so simple. Really, he knew that he should say no for his own sake, gently turn Barry down and remind him that he’d get there in his own time anyway, and any guy who was decent wouldn’t be deterred by him being a little inexperienced. There were ways to reassure him that didn’t involve strangling Hal’s heart in his chest.

Hal, however, was not interested in those ways.

“You know,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “if you just want to sleep with me, you can just ask. I’m easy, no need to dance around it-”

“That’s not-” Barry held up a hand, grimacing. “That’s not it, that’s not what I meant. I’m not… trying to use you like that. Sorry, we can ignore it, pretend I didn’t say anything-”

“I was kidding,” Hal promised, but Christ, just hearing Barry dismiss the idea of the two of them was a punch to the gut. It had been a bad idea to joke about it in the first place, Hal had known that, but he’d done it anyway. Duly noted for the future then, while they did whatever it was they were doing - because odds were, this was going to happen again. Once was a coincidence, but twice was the start of a habit.

Barry still looked uneasy, like Hal had ripped the rug out from underneath him, so he reached over to give his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Dude, if I wasn’t okay with this, I wouldn’t be doing it. I promise. Swear on whatever you want.”

That finally got through. Barry relaxed under his hand, and the tension he could feel in his shoulder shifted, changed; it wasn’t the tight muscles of someone poised to run now, but the gentle lean of someone who was waiting, expectant, for the other to make the first move. Hal was more than familiar with it, and it twisted his stomach up into knots to realise he could feel it in Barry now, see it in the reassured smile at the corners of his mouth. 

“Okay,” Barry sighed. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I am,” Hal said, nodding once firmly. Even if this was going to haunt him, he was sure. He put his beer down on the table and spread his hands, silently inviting Barry to continue.

“Alright.” Barry’s eyes flickered down to Hal’s lips for a beat, and then they were back up again, focusing on Hal’s. “So… how do we start this?”

Hal resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Kiss me, Bar. Let’s go from there.”

That, apparently, was easy enough.

Barry was surprisingly smooth as he moved in closer, one hand coming up to cup Hal’s jaw as he leaned in. For a moment, Hal was frozen solid, eyes open and fixed on Barry’s closed ones, but his brain revved into gear before Barry could react - which, well, wasn’t as impressive as Hal thought upon further reflection, not when Barry had the gift of superspeed, but maybe he was too busy thinking about the kiss to notice. Regardless, Hal caught himself before he let his crush run away with him, and his eyelids drifted shut as he kissed Barry back.

It was heaven, pure and simple. Hal hadn’t been lying or joking when he’d said Barry was a good kisser. Just a few sweet, slow pecks had shown him that, and now that Barry’s mouth lingered against his, Hal was reminded of that fact. He could damn near _feel_ synapses firing across his brain, lighting up with the feeling of Barry’s fingers curving to fit more comfortably against his jaw, his thumb sweeping across Hal’s cheek.

Oh, God, he was fucked. Hal swallowed back a whimper. 

He skimmed his hand up Barry’s arm, resting it on the inside of his forearm with a gentle squeeze - which, again, mistake, because there was far more muscle there than Hal had realised, firm and nice under his hand-

Barry nipped at his lower lip, and Hal felt a sudden, too hot pulse of heat low in his stomach. His tongue darted after it, there and gone just to soothe the sting. Hal’s breath rushed out of his lungs in a heavy breath, and he felt his cheeks flush with how _obvious_ a reaction that was. 

And yet, Barry didn’t seem to notice. He just tilted his head a little to avoid Hal’s nose and kept kissing him, stealing the breath from his lungs as his hands wandered politely across Hal’s shoulders and upper arms. They didn’t even thread into his hair, not like Hal desperately wanted, but he didn’t dare to ask. That would be too vulnerable when this was just an experiment, just practice, this wasn’t for Hal-

His dick definitely hadn’t gotten the message, though. Hal felt a familiar pooling of warmth in his abdomen and a promising tingle across his skin; if they didn’t stop soon, he was going to end up with a boner, and probably a stupidly big one at that. Oh, God, what if they kept going and Barry noticed? Hal wasn’t sure he could recover from that.

Thankfully, Barry disengaged a moment later while Hal wrestled to keep himself in line. He dropped another couple of quick, gentle pecks on Hal’s lips, and then he sat up again.

Hal was oddly satisfied to see that his face was pink and his chest was heaving just a little with his breaths. That got filed neatly away with everything else that had just happened, right alongside the way Hal’s mouth still felt a little damp from the kissing. He resisted the urge to reach up and swipe the back of his hand across it.

“So,” Hal said, sprawling back against his corner of the couch with a casual grin, “was that as good for you as it was for me?”

“Shut up,” Barry huffed fondly, swatting at his knee. “But… yeah, thank you.”

Hal cocked his head. “Did that help?”

“I think so. It’s… I know a little more about what to expect, so.”

“That was the idea, yeah.”

Silence dropped between them for a moment, heavy and thick like a fog. It wasn’t awkward, exactly, but Hal didn’t feel entirely comfortable either. He shifted a little lower on the couch, just to subtly try and take the pressure of his jeans off of his dick - he wasn’t hard yet, but much longer and he definitely would have been heading that way, and he wanted to pop a boner now even _less_ than he wanted to pop one during the kissing. 

Hal cast about for something to disturb the odd quiet, and he landed on the TV remote, sitting innocently next to his barely touched beer. He scooped it up with a gesture from his ring, only to drop it right into Barry’s lap. “Here, pick us out something to watch. Have you eaten?”

Barry looked just as relieved as Hal felt. “Yeah, but there’s leftovers in the fridge if you want any. Help yourself.”

It was a window of opportunity, and Hal grasped at it like a lifeline. He exhaled a long breath as soon as he was out of Barry’s sight, and he dragged a hand through his hair just to try and shake off some of the tension lingering in his muscles. There was only one thing that would really get rid of it, but that wasn’t something he could really do in Barry’s apartment. 

Grabbing food from the fridge gave him just enough time to catch his breath, though. He steeled himself before he headed back out into the living room, where Barry had settled on something that looked appropriately full of explosions and car chases. 

Hal dared to glance over at Barry, only to force his gaze forwards again in an instant; Barry looked too damn good right now, stretched out on the sofa like he was. One of his arms rested across the back, leaving an open space that Hal figured he could easily fit into. It wouldn’t take that much to make himself right at home there, and he could soak up all of that warmth that he knew Barry radiated.

He shoved a bite of noodles into his mouth. _Get it together, Jordan._

* * *

Barry had to have no idea about his crush, right? 

Hal had thought about it, and he’d drawn some easy conclusions. Barry Allen was a nice man and a wonderful friend; he was the kind of guy who’d stop the practicing plan in an instant if he found out that the other party could be hurt by it. There was absolutely no way in hell that Barry would let this fly unless he thought it was just Hal being a good friend.

Therefore, Barry had no clue. It was a wonder that he hadn’t figured it out by now. Before all of this, Hal often wondered if he had and was just staying silent so Hal wouldn’t be embarrassed, but this made it official: Barry didn’t know about his crush.

He thought through all of this against the back of his own door. Hal thunked his head back against the wood with a grunt as their makeout session played behind his closed eyelids, stoking the low simmer in his belly that he’d just about managed to tame for the rest of the evening. He tried to blame it on the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a good long while thanks to being out in space - sometimes he’d get lucky up on Oa, but this had not been one of those times - but Hal knew himself better. It wouldn’t be stuck in his brain on loop like this if it wasn’t Barry.

Still, he needed to get himself back on an Earth routine. He had work in a few days, and he couldn’t afford to stay up any later. Grimacing, Hal pushed himself away from the door and further into his apartment. Shower, and then bed. That was it.

Then again, as he stepped under the hot water, his dick had other ideas. 

“Fine,” Hal growled, sliding a hand down his front to tease his fingers over the base of his dick. He closed his eyes, and he did his best to think of anyone who _wasn’t_ Barry.

A lady, first of all, Hal thought. A brunette at that, just to make this imaginary woman decidedly different, and once she was established, Hal let his imagination wonder. It was more than enough to get him worked up again, the brush of his hand turning into a firmer grip, and as the fantasy really got going, he braced himself with an arm against the wall so he could bow his face away from the showerhead. He didn’t need that to ruin his immersion.

In his mind’s eye, they were up against some nondescript wall somewhere, pressed together from head to toe. They were kissing nice and slow, and the woman made appreciative noises against Hal’s lips as he trailed his hands over her curves. It was close enough to plenty of situations he’d been in before, and so far removed from Barry that-

God, _Barry._

Hal felt a sharp jolt of heat just at the thought of him. The kiss had been _so_ damn good; Hal could still feel the press of his palm against his cheek, the gentle bite of his teeth. The little details came flooding back to Hal now, missed in the moment but remembered the second he let himself: the smell of Barry’s soap, the light scratch of their stubble, the hot rush of breath against his lips when Barry exhaled. It made Hal tremble with want, and when he came, it was with the lingering sense memory of Barry’s lips on his and very little else.

He stayed there for a long moment, wallowing in a particularly fantastic cocktail of self hate and pity all in one, and then finally allowed himself to shower.

This was a problem, for sure. It was stupidly indulgent of him to go along with it - hell, to even suggest it in the first place - and if Hal wanted to stay a good friend, he knew he needed to gently put an end to this as soon as possible.

Then again, he _had_ had the chance to kiss Barry twice already, which was, in itself, a pretty compelling argument.

Moral dilemma averted, Hal finished up under the water and stepped out to dry. He gently put aside the matter for now, and instead, decided to collapse into bed for an early night. Usually, Hal found that letting matters work themselves out was a good way to go, and if they did need a little extra input, he had a good track record with winging it.

Besides, he thought to himself with a scoff, it wasn’t like Barry would want to do more than a little making out.


	2. Second Base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck a regular posting schedule for this fic, it's just going as it's going since it's almost done in my notes!
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers do not interact.

As it turned out, Barry did want to try a little more than just making out.

Hal sunk back into the couch with a pleased sigh, one that had very nearly been a moan. His hands hovered over Barry’s sides, more to steady him than to really touch. It was nothing short of torture to have Barry in his lap and to restrain himself to the bare minimum, and yet there he was, his head spinning as Barry kissed him into the cushions. For the moment, his hands were tamely on Hal’s shoulders, his fingers fanned out to touch as much as possible, but they both knew that that wasn’t going to last long.

The next step up from just kissing was, naturally, a little bit of touching. 

Barry squeezed his shoulders, and then his fingers drifted down, over Hal’s biceps and to his elbows. Hal inhaled very carefully as Barry lingered there, thumbs brushing up just enough to feel the swell of muscle through Hal’s shirt; he tried to focus on kissing him, nice and slow and everything Hal had ever  _ dreamed _ of, while Barry touched him. If he held onto Barry’s sides a little tighter, that was nobody’s business but his own.

Eventually, he shifted again, skipping Hal’s forearms in favour of planting his palms against his chest. His touch was gentle, light, more to brace himself as he turned his attention back to the kiss. Hal felt more than heard Barry’s quiet noise as he nipped at Barry’s lower lip, just to be a little shit. It sort of backfired given the effect the sound had - a slow, thick drip of heat slid down Hal’s throat, pooling in his stomach dangerously - but it was worth it just to  _ experience _ it.

Every nerve lit up as Barry’s hands trailed lower, and Hal sucked in another deeper breath. Hopefully, it wasn’t desperate enough that Barry noticed - and, well, Hal had to assume that he hadn’t, because the way Barry’s fingers trailed down his stomach to the hem of his shirt was definitely going to haunt Hal’s every waking moment.

Barry drew back a tiny bit, though their lips still brushed when he spoke. “Can-” He paused, swallowed. Hal heard his throat click. “Can I… go underneath?”

A groan got stuck in Hal’s throat, tumbling out of him in more of a quiet choking noise instead. They’d made out a few times between now and that first time, but this was easily the furthest they’d gone; Barry had wanted to try letting his hands wander a little, and Hal had helplessly agreed. It had, of course, been a mistake, just like every other step that had brought them here, but Hal was a sucker for digging himself a deeper grave when he already found himself knee-high in one. It was how he had found himself with a lapful of eager Barry Allen, struggling not to pop a boner right then and there. 

“Yeah,” he huffed, smiling lazily at Barry in what he hoped was an entirely casual way. “Go for it.”

Barry shifted a little further back on Hal’s knees, somewhat awkward as he put a little space between them. Hal honestly couldn’t tell if it was to give himself room, or whether it was something more to do with their current predicament - and he stopped himself there, unwilling to think any further because Christ, that was far too hot to even  _ begin _ to contemplate.

As Barry’s hands slipped under Hal’s shirt, he hauled Barry in for another kiss anyway, just to silence the beginning of any potential noises. He scrunched his eyes shut tight, huffing out a breath through his nose as Barry’s palms flattened against his middle; his hands were so,  _ so _ warm, almost  _ hot, _ and while Hal had theoretically known that that was the case - thank you, speedforce - he hadn’t ever considered it in this kind of context. His horny mid-masturbation session brain hadn’t quite factored that in, but it certainly would now.

It was a struggle to keep his whimpers to himself as Barry’s hands pressed higher, up to his chest. His fingers fanned out across Hal’s pecs, resting there. 

Hal felt an only slightly hysterical laugh bubble up in his throat. “Not gonna find much else there, Bar,” he mumbled against his lips.

Barry scooted closer again. He squeezed, just slightly, and Hal’s giggles fell away in one quick exhale. “Wasn’t expecting to,” Barry replied in a quiet rush of breath. “I… It’s nice, though.”

If Hal hadn’t been so embarrassingly worked up, he might have teased Barry over his phrasing.  _ Nice. _ Just  _ nice. _ Hal had had his hands on a fair share of chests of all shapes and sizes, and he wasn’t sure  _ nice _ was the word he’d use for any of it-

Barry shifted on his lap, just a little bit. Hal bit the inside of his cheek as his thoughts scattered, leaving him with just that one motion and all of the fantasies it inspired. God, what he wouldn’t give to be greedy, to slide his hands down to Barry’s hips and pull him in until they were flush together, to feel him up in return instead of sitting there in a surprising show of patience. If Hal had ever had any reason to doubt his willpower, this would have convinced him that he  _ definitely _ deserved the ring, because Barry with flushed cheeks and blown pupils was one of the most tempting sights he’d ever fucking seen.

Hal tilted his head up into the next kiss, surrendering to it gladly. He was painfully aware that he was half hard in his jeans, and really, if he wanted to preserve his dignity then it would be a good idea to stop this soon. 

He just didn’t  _ want _ to.

Barry’s thumb skated dangerously close to his nipple, and Hal shivered under the brush, his toes curling against the rug under his feet-

The doorbell rang.

Barry froze in his lap, and between one blink and the next, he was gone. Hal’s brain took a beat to catch up with the sudden loss of weight over his thighs; he took a couple of steadying breaths, hands dropping to his knees, while Barry carefully arranged himself at the other end of the couch. His face was still pink, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he puffed out a breathy laugh.

“Forgot about the pizza,” he admitted, sheepishly meeting Hal’s eyes.

Oh, God, what Hal wouldn’t give to kiss him again right then, and it wasn’t even because of the want still thundering through his veins. He just wanted to… lean in, knock his nose fondly against Barry’s, peck him on the lips before he got their food.

He was a goner.  _ Fuck. _

“Me, too,” Hal chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt, subtly tugging it just a little bit lower; he was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten any further than halfway there, but there was no need to embarrass himself with even a slight tent in his jeans. “How do I look? Freshly debauched?”

“I didn’t even know you knew a word as big as that,” Barry shot back playfully. Hal laughed a little more fully this time, grateful for the easy slide back into their usual back and forth. The pizza delivery was probably a good thing, really; he hadn’t meant to get started on anything before their food - it had just sort of happened, as it usually did between them these days - but at least it had stopped them before anything had gone too far.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Touching Hal’s bare chest had been a new step. 

Hal flicked Barry’s ear on his way past his end of the couch. “I  _ can _ read, you know. I’m smart.”

“Sometimes,” Barry called over his shoulder. Privately, Hal agreed with that one.

By the time he brought the pizza over to the couch, it was like nothing had ever happened. Barry was already flicking through the TV’s offerings for the evening, and Hal was left with a low buzz of arousal under his skin that would wait there until Barry went home. It was a familiar feeling by now, one that Hal guiltily looked forwards to every time.

Sometimes, he wondered if Barry felt it, too. A quick glance Barry’s way told him nothing - he eagerly scooped up a slice of pizza, licked a stray piece of cheese off of his thumb - and chattered away just like usual. If he felt any leftover horniness from their making out, he was good at hiding it.

So Hal happily carried on digging his own grave, pressing just that little bit deeper as he smiled back at Barry and let his heart pound against his ribs. 

Later, once Barry had gone home, he cracked. He stayed there on the couch, slumped in the same spot he’d occupied all night, one hand in his jeans as he thought about what might have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted. Hal shuddered his way through a shameful - but utterly  _ fantastic _ \- orgasm, panting up at the ceiling with his other arm across his eyes.

Like that, he could almost pretend that Barry had never left at all.

* * *

There was a nice little bar in Star City, one that was somehow both quiet and full of life at the same time. The TV in the corner tended to play whatever sport was on at the moment without any kind of allegiance for team or game, and the patrons were just boisterous enough to provide a nice cover of noise without being overbearing. Hal, Barry, and Ollie had a particular favourite table in the corner, away from the hubbub of the main room, where they could proceed to drink and chat the evening away.

Coming here was something of a tradition. Barry would run and Hal would fly, and they’d land in Oliver’s backyard before making their way over. They’d walk, laughing and joking around, and by the end of the night, they’d crash in Ollie’s living room and sleep it off before leaving in the morning. It happened almost every time that Hal was on Earth, and this was no exception.

“I’ll get us the first round,” Ollie insisted, pushing them towards their usual table. “Go, sit before someone else grabs it.”

Barry made his way over a little quicker than strictly necessary, and Hal snorted as he slid into the chair next to him. “Really, Bar?”

“He said to grab it,” Barry said, grinning. He set his chin on his folded hands, fixing every watt of that brilliant and bright smile on Hal. It was hard not to blush, honestly; Hal would have been just fine before they’d started everything, but now… 

Barry just  _ did _ things to him, these days. More than usual, anyway.

“Drinks!” Ollie said cheerfully, settling into the last chair. He slid two beer bottles across the table for Barry and Hal to catch, and then hummed around the first sip of his own. “Perfect. So, boys: what’s been happening?”

Hal busied himself with a too big gulp of his beer. His thoughts were, unfortunately, a little occupied; sure, he’d worked both in and out of costume but all of that was just… well, work. Outside of the Lantern Corps and Ferris Air, he just spent time with Barry, slept, or jerked off. None of that was really the kind of conversation that he could bring up over a few beers with friends - especially when one of those friends was one who frequently appeared in his mind’s eye  _ during _ said jerking off.

“Same old, same old,” Barry said easily, shrugging a shoulder. “Singh’s kicking my ass, but that’s nothing new.”

Ollie grunted. “Still think you could get him off your back with a visit from our spooky friend.” He lifted a hand, pantomiming one of Batman’s pointy ears over his head, and then put on a low growl.  _ “I’m Batman, and I think you should leave the delicate police process alone so they can do their job, _ or whatever the fuck he said to get the commissioner in bed with him.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna do that, Ollie. I get results, and that’s what matters most. Singh can be patient sometimes.”

“Rich coming from someone who  _ can _ go faster,” Hal teased, bumping his foot against Barry’s. 

It was worth it for the pained look on Barry’s face. “That’s not how it works, and you know that. I can’t make  _ science _ go faster.”

“Sure you can,” Hal shot back, grinning now. “Going fast is your thing, Bar.”

It was easy to find his footing in joking around, he realised. It had never failed him before, and it sure as hell didn’t now; if Ollie or Barry had noticed his momentary quietness at the start, they certainly never mentioned it as the conversation finally flowed. They worked their way through another set of drinks after the first, with Hal paying for the second along with some snacks. He had almost forgotten anything that had ruffled his feathers in the first place once he was a couple of beers deep and licking salt off of his fingers from their shared basket of fries.

“We need more of these,” Ollie decided, snatching the last one before Hal could grab it. 

Hal pouted. “That was mine, asshole. I was saving that, it was stupidly long.”

Ollie just smirked at him around the last bite. “Shouldn’t have waited. Tick tock, Hal.”

“I’ll grab more,” Barry promised, pushing himself to his feet. “Another round, guys?” He paused to get their nods and take the empty bottles, and then headed over to the bar to place their order.

As Barry left, Ollie twisted in his chair to look back over his shoulder. He was scanning the bar idly, and Hal leaned back in his chair to await the inevitable. While Ollie played the part of a lazy wingman, Hal let his gaze drift, as if he didn’t know exactly where it was about to land: on Barry’s handsome profile, outlined so perfectly as he smiled at the bartender.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Ollie asked, turning back to Hal with a sneaky little smile. “You crashing at my place, or…?”

Hal crossed his legs at the ankles idly. “Yours. Why?”

“Oh, you know. I just figured, since you got back from Oa the other day…” Ollie tilted his head, and that smirk came out full force now. Sometimes, Hal really did hate him. “You don’t  _ have _ to spend the night on my couch. I’m sure there’s  _ someone _ here who’ll have you.”

It was a joke, but it left a slightly bitter taste in Hal’s mouth only because the one person he actually  _ did _ want wouldn’t have him in return. 

As if he knew he was thinking about him, Barry glanced back at their table. He caught Hal’s gaze - his heart stuttered in his chest, seizing up almost painfully - and smiled. When he waved, Hal waved back, and he sincerely hoped that his emotions weren’t written all over his face. The last thing he needed was for Ollie to pick up on anything; it was hard enough dealing with it on his own, and he didn’t want anyone intruding on it just to stomp all over his feelings, even in jest.

“I’m good, actually,” Hal said, forcing his attention back to Ollie. He smiled, and while it felt stiff, Ollie didn’t seem like he noticed anything awry. Hal relaxed; Ollie never hesitated to call anyone out on their bullshit, so he must have been doing something right. “I was looking forward to spending tonight with you guys,  _ including _ passing out on your couch.”

Ollie shrugged, apparently unbothered. “Suit yourself. You two can enjoy my couches, and  _ I _ will enjoy sharing a bed with my wife.”

Hal snorted. “Yeah, like she’s gonna let you get anywhere when you get home.” A joke about getting further with Barry simply by virtue of a little drunken giggling in the dark rose to the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want  _ that _ going any further, so he swallowed it down again before he could voice it.

Thankfully, Barry interrupted by thunking three new bottles down on the table. “What’d I miss?”

“Ollie’s not getting any tonight,” Hal said, lifting his beer for a grateful sip. 

“You don’t know that!”

Hal shot him a pitying look over the neck of his bottle. “Oh, we do. You don’t get anywhere  _ sober, _ Dinah’s not gonna give you an inch when we get back.”

Barry grimaced. “God, I hope she doesn’t. Actually, can we not talk about Ollie’s sex life-”

“Why not?” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows. “Jealous?”

A delightfully complicated mix of emotions washed over Barry’s face: a faintly disgusted twist of his lips, and then a scrunch of his eyebrows as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m- I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

Hal’s beer was, suddenly, far more interesting. He took another gulp, relishing the burn in his throat.

“Oh?” Ollie turned towards him like a shark scenting blood in the water. His eyes were as sharp as his smile as he planted an elbow on the table to watch Barry very, very carefully. “So you’re seeing someone? Did you get back with Iris?”

“I- No, I didn’t get back with Iris,” Barry sighed. His gaze dropped away, down to where he picked at the label on his beer. “Dude, she’s my friend now. I just said I’m doing fine, not that I’m seeing someone.”

That knife between Hal’s ribs twisted suddenly, just like he’d predicted it would. He hid the stab behind a swig of beer, only to choke on it when he forgot just how to swallow. Ollie’s gaze slid to him instead, and Barry was frowning with so much genuine concern-

Oh, God. Hal  _ hated _ himself.

“I’m good,” he wheezed, waving a hand. “Just… went down the wrong way. I’m good.”

Just like before, Ollie shrugged and let it be. He eyed up Barry, but he let the topic go, apparently satisfied with the answer that Barry had given. It was some small mercy, though that spot just below Hal’s heart continued to ache and throb long after they’d finished their second basket of fries. It was still sore even as they left, arm in arm and giggling their way back to Ollie’s.

* * *

In the darkness, Hal felt a brief moment of weakness.

Ollie’s couches were set up at a right angle, and he and Barry had settled in as they always did: their heads at the corner, just so they could talk until they dozed off. There had been several memorable occasions where one of them had fallen asleep mid conversation, and Hal had hoped for something similar this time around, just so he could hear Barry’s voice. 

They did chat for a little while, murmuring mindless nonsense to each other and snickering as they tried to keep quiet. Silence fell between them for a beat, and Hal’s thoughts wandered, just a little bit.

Barry was so close. It wouldn’t take much to reach out and touch his hand, slide it up to his wrist. If Hal twisted up onto his elbows, he could lean across the gap and kiss him, so long as Barry met him halfway. There would be no excuse for it here, no way to explain it away as impromptu practice. 

Hal swallowed. “Bar?” he whispered.

Quiet. Barry breathed slow, even, and deep. He’d fallen asleep in the brief lapse in conversation; he must have been hanging on by a thread if he’d drifted off that easily.

Hal’s chest hurt. He rolled over to face the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

* * *

It wasn’t until after his next Oa trip that they found time to hang out again. Central City had kept Barry busy until then, and Hal had, admittedly, been too embarrassed by his brief, desperate attempt at a confession of some kind to fly over before he headed back out into space. 

Maybe it was time to put this to bed, he thought reluctantly. It had been fun, but Barry surely had more than enough experience to work with now. In the end, Hal had to look out for himself, and that was something that Barry would definitely understand - or, well,  _ would _ have understood, because Hal certainly didn’t plan on going all the way with that confession just to break off whatever this was. There were plenty of cover stories available to him, and the easiest was some kind of joke about Barry graduating top of his class.

That was, in theory, how the conversation was supposed to go.

Instead, Hal arrived on Barry’s doorstep with a fresh pack of beer and an armful of snacks, and Barry invited him inside with the same easy smile he always did.

“Hey,” he said, taking the snacks off of Hal’s hands while he toed off his shoes at the door. “How was the trip?”

“Good,” Hal said, following Barry inside.  _ God, _ these days, Barry’s apartment felt more like home than his own, soothing the slight wrinkle he always felt when first returning to Earth; it had to be something Pavlovian, somehow tied to the comforting smell of the place mixed with the familiarity of Barry’s presence. Any thought of important conversations died before they were fully formed as something unlocked in Hal’s chest, shifting and slotting into place with a quiet rush of relief.

Barry vanished into the kitchen. Hal leaned against the doorframe, watching as he plucked two beers out of the case and tucked the rest into the fridge to chill. “I haven’t ordered anything to eat yet,” Barry said, glancing over his shoulder at Hal. “I didn’t know if you were even making it back tonight, so…”

Hal shrugged. “That’s fine. I grabbed a quick bite to eat at the Watchtower on my way home.”

There was a weird, prickling tension in the air. Hal figured it was just him, just something he was imagining based on what he’d almost said, but when Barry handed him his drink, Hal’s skin fizzled where their fingers brushed. Barry jerked at the snap of static electricity, and Hal sucked in a quick breath.

So he wasn’t just imagining it.

“What’s up?” he asked, tilting his head to rest it against the doorframe.

Barry rubbed his fingertips together, frowning. “Nothing,” he said, scooping up his drink. “Just… It’s just the speedforce acting up. I’ve been busy with work, not Flash stuff. Guess I haven’t burned off enough energy.”

It was a terrible lie, but Hal didn’t call him out on it. He just nodded and took a long sip of his drink, content to let Barry get away with it. If he didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t press. Hal liked to consider himself the king of avoiding certain conversations if he could manage it, so he sympathised.

They relocated to the living room, tossing themselves onto the couch in their usual comfortable sprawl. Hal’s leg ended up beneath Barry’s somehow, but he didn’t bother to extricate himself; Barry was a comfortable, warm weight, even on just that small portion of his shin. It was pleasant, grounding, after spending so much time in the weightlessness of space.

He reached into the gap between them to search for the remote, only to jump when his hand knocked Barry’s again. Sparks fizzed between them, and Barry made a frustrated noise as he withdrew his hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Hal promised, but he twisted to face Barry a little better without completely disentangling himself. “Seriously, though, what’s up? You don’t get like this unless you’ve worked yourself up.”

Barry grimaced. He set his beer down on the floor so he could twist his fingers in his lap instead, but his lips stayed firmly pressed together despite his nervous fidgeting. Hal squinted; Barry was avoiding his gaze, so he clearly didn’t want to admit to something, and, well.

Hal’s imagination ran wild.

“What is it?” he prompted, poking Barry in the leg with his toe. “Are you seeing someone now or something?”

That startled a laugh out of Barry. “What? No.”

Hal decided not to examine the flood of relief he felt at that. It was short-lived anyway, because Barry sat up a little straighter and actually looked up at him, and Hal was all too familiar with  _ that _ particular look in his eye now-

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Barry said. 

Hal raised an eyebrow. “The opposite, huh?”

Barry nodded. “Yeah. I was… wondering if we could-”

“Get a little practice in before we get food?” Hal asked. When Barry smiled a little sheepishly, Hal rolled his eyes fondly and put his beer down. “Dude, we’ve gotta get you back to trying out pickup lines again. You’re getting rusty already. Get over here.”

He was  _ sure _ he imagined the eager spark in Barry’s eyes as he scooted over to Hal’s end of the couch. “Well, it worked on you, didn’t it?”

“Almost anything works on me,” Hal reminded him, looping an arm around Barry’s neck. “C’mere.”

It was so, so easy to tug Barry down to kiss him. Barry went willingly, his hands shooting out to settle on Hal’s sides like they belonged there, and Christ, Hal  _ wished _ that they did. 

If stepping into Barry’s apartment had felt like coming home, then kissing him was like sinking into bed after a long trip: warm, familiar, and comforting. He was too late to stop his hand from drifting up to cup Barry’s jaw, but he didn’t seem to mind; he tilted into the touch like a cat seeking affection, humming pleasantly as Hal’s thumb settled into place high on Barry’s cheek. It was a spot he knew well by now, and he brushed over it almost sweetly as he felt out what kind of mood Barry was in tonight. He didn’t always want a full on makeout session; sometimes, he just wanted to try a few easy pecks, and then they’d be on their way. 

Judging by the way Barry kissed him a little harder, tonight was the former.

Hal huffed out a quiet laugh as he was almost bowled over by the strength of Barry’s kiss. He steadied himself with a hand on the edge of the couch, propping himself upright just so they didn’t topple backwards. Horizontal wasn’t something they’d dared to try yet - having Barry on his lap had been dizzying enough - and while Hal was sorely tempted to just… tilt himself backwards and let Barry topple down on top of him, he wanted Barry to be the one to lead every step of the way, to guide Hal towards his comfort zone and stick to it. It kept Hal from being selfish, when this was, of course, about Barry.

So he kept his hands politely to themselves just like last time, simply resting on Barry’s waist as they found their rhythm. 

Barry was surprisingly  _ hungry. _ Usually, he was too nice to be very demanding about it; the only reason Barry had ended up in Hal’s lap last time had been because Hal had pulled him up there after getting an ache in his neck from the angle. It had been to make it easier, he’d told himself, but Barry had sunken into the kiss anyway with a quiet chuckle that had firmly lodged itself in Hal’s brain.

This time, they were blocked by the tangle of their legs: Hal’s were spread, but one was trapped underneath both of Barry’s where he’d turned to kiss him. He had limited room to maneuver, pinned as he was; Hal swallowed hard at the thought, refusing to admit just how much the idea of Barry holding him down turned him on. It had been a close call on the boner last time, and he didn’t want to make Barry uncomfortable if he could avoid it.

And then Barry shifted,  _ pressed _ a hand against Hal’s shoulder, and he fell back against the arm of the couch anyway. It broke the kiss, left his legs splayed with space between them, and when he managed to force his eyes open, Barry was wide eyed and blinking down at him in surprise, just a few inches away.

“I- Sorry,” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I didn’t, uh. I swear I meant to ask first before…”

Hal’s tongue felt thick in his mouth. “It’s fine. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

There was a flash of something on Barry’s face, something somewhere between curious and hesitant. “You sure? I don’t- I don’t want to, you know, press any boundaries or anything.”

Oh, if only Hal had had boundaries in the first place. His very lack of them was what had brought them here; anyone else might have stopped it at that one first kiss, or maybe the second, but only Hal could have made it here. He was painfully aware of that fact, and he desperately didn’t want to stop. It didn’t matter that it only fed his crush, not when Barry seemed to be enjoying things, too.

So, as casual as anything, Hal shrugged. “Up to you, dude. Come down here if you want to, or we can grab a takeout menu and order dinner.”

Barry was silent for a long moment. His gaze was fixed on somewhere around Hal’s mouth, and Hal tried to ignore the flare of heat in his belly as he realised that Barry was  _ warring _ over this. It wasn’t just a simple yes or no. The thing was, it couldn’t be about feelings, because if Barry felt anything beyond friendship there was no way he’d put himself through this; he’d stop and maybe consider asking Hal if it was mutual, but he certainly wouldn’t keep coming back to this if it was emotionally painful.

That meant that Barry wanted this physically - wanted _Hal_ physically, even if it was only in this one small way.

The thought was like a bolt of lightning, crackling and fizzing its way along Hal’s skin. It was almost too fucking much to consider when Barry bit his lip and stared down at Hal like he wanted to pounce on him.

And then Barry nodded, and he shifted to kneel in the gap between Hal’s thighs. Hal’s throat clicked with a dry swallow as he adjusted, moving his right leg to press it against the back of the couch and give Barry more room to settle in, to slot between his legs and prop himself up with his elbows on either side of Hal’s shoulders. They weren’t quite fully down - more like reclined against the couch’s arm - but it was enough to set every inch of Hal on fire when Barry brushed his lips against Hal’s again.

Surely this was a dream. The universe was not kind to Hal, never  _ had _ been, and he didn’t think it was about to start anytime soon. 

But Barry certainly  _ felt _ very real against him, and if that was the case, there was no way to explain this turn of events. For once in his goddamn life, Hal felt genuinely  _ lucky; _ Barry was pressed against him from their chests to their mouths, and while one arm kept him up, the other had moved again restlessly just so he could tangle his fingers in Hal’s hair, petting it back behind his ear. Tingles sparked at every point Barry’s fingertips touched, and Hal was beginning to find it difficult to keep still.

He liked to think he was a good man. He wasn’t a fantastic one, but he knew he was strong, smart, resourceful. There weren’t many things that could sway him, and while that meant that Bruce sometimes called him stubborn, Hal figured it was probably a good thing that someone stood up to Batman now and again.

Right now, he’d never felt weaker. His knees were jelly, even while he was on his back with them carefully either side of Barry’s hips as he tried so damn hard to keep even a shred of his dignity.

Then again, with Barry so fucking close, the last thread of his control snapped.

Hal’s hands  _ refused _ to stay on Barry’s sides. Instead, one tangled itself in the short hair at the back of his neck, using it to keep their mouths firmly sealed together, and the other landed on the back of Barry’s hip, just to hang on. And, as if the hint of warm flesh under the hem of Barry’s shirt wasn’t earth-shattering enough, Barry made a quiet noise, something so soft and wanting and  _ desperate, _ and Hal lost all of the air in his lungs in one harsh exhale.

All pretence of practice went out the window. Barry dropped down those last few inches, settling comfortably on his knees. It lined up their hips, and while Barry had probably just intended to relax for a nice, thorough makeout session, Hal instantly saw stars.

Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even realised how hard he’d been until right then. There was a firm bulge pressing against his own, unmoving for now but very there and  _ very  _ present, and Hal bit his own tongue hard to stop himself from just grinding up against Barry. He wasn’t an animal, and Barry had only come down here to kiss, not to get off, even though Hal really, really wanted the latter-

And then Barry shifted against him, rocked down against Hal just a little, and Hal’s thoughts  _ shattered. _

He pressed his thighs in against either side of Barry’s hips, holding him close as Barry tentatively rolled into the movement again. He felt the shiver that ran down Barry’s spine, pressed his palm flat to Barry’s back to catch the last traces of it as it echoed in Hal’s chest. Hal did his best to sit still for the moment, just so Barry could find his footing; this was all kinds of different, several new things all rolled into one for Barry - Hal knew  _ that _ for a fact - and while he damn near fucking  _ throbbed _ in his jeans, he wanted to wait for Barry to find a rhythm he was comfortable with, if there was one at all.

Barry mumbled something into the kiss, something that Hal didn’t quite catch. Judging by the hiss of his breath, it was probably a curse, and Hal’s pulse skyrocketed as Barry finally,  _ finally, _ ground against him properly. He didn’t care that his zipper pressed against him wrong, biting even through his underwear, and he didn’t give a damn anymore about keeping his hands to himself. Barry’s shirt rode up with his next rock, and as the ends of Hal’s fingers brushed against bare skin for the first time, a whimper bubbled up in his throat.

Barry broke away with a quiet gasp. He panted against the corner of Hal’s mouth, his breath fanning hot and damp against his skin. Hal sucked in a few quick lungfuls of cooler air, blinking up at the ceiling as he tried to think past the insistent thrum of want under his skin.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to- to  _ start _ things.”

“S’fine,” Hal promised, squeezing Barry’s hip. “Told you before, I don’t mind. We can stop if you want to.” Christ, it would be hard - which,  _ haha, _ Hal thought - but he’d damn well do it if this was all Barry wanted from him. There was no question about it.

But Barry made that sound again, tinged with just a little bit of pain. “I  _ don’t _ want to.”

Hal slammed his eyes shut. God, that was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, right down to the breathy note in Barry’s voice. How many times had he pictured this exact situation? It didn’t compare to the real thing, not when he could feel the ridiculous heat of Barry through his t-shirt and the frustrating seal of his zipper against his erection. Hell, like this, Hal could feel just how into this Barry was, too; there was a pretty nice bulge in his jeans, an  _ impressive _ one at that, and Hal ignored the way that thought made his mouth water just a little. Barry’s fingers flexed in his hair, exercising restraint as he bowed his head to rest his forehead against Hal’s.

He swallowed hard enough for Hal to hear.  _ “Fuck, _ I don’t want to stop, Hal.”

“Then don’t,” Hal said simply.

Barry exhaled, and then tilted his head just enough to catch Hal’s lips again. He could taste a groan on the back of his teeth as they both shifted into each other this time, but he had no idea who had made the noise in the first place; it rattled around behind his ribs, pressed from one of them to the other, only to be lost in the next desperate huff of breath. His hand slipped under Barry’s shirt now that the dam had broken, sliding up his spine to feel every bump of his vertebrae, mapping them out like he’d never get another chance. As far as he knew, he wouldn’t.

He jumped as Barry’s hand appeared at his side, shoving up under his shirt without preamble. His palm burned a path up Hal’s side, and Hal helplessly rocked up against Barry in fits and starts as he just  _ touched _ Hal. Before this, he’d never been a big fan of someone touching his chest - Hal could take it or leave it most of the time, he wasn’t that bothered - but when it was  _ Barry’s _ searing fingers trailing across his skin, cupping the firm muscle there and thumbing curiously at his nipple, it was, apparently, an entirely different ball game.

“Mm,” Hal hummed, digging his nails gently into Barry’s back. “Doesn’t do much for me, Bar, but if you want to keep going-”

“I like- You have a nice-” Barry cut himself off with an awkward laugh, turning his head to bump his nose against Hal’s while they paused. “Turns out, I like muscle.”

Hal tipped his head back and bit the inside of his cheek as Barry rolled against him, slow and deliberate, almost like they’d done it a thousand times before. “I haven’t got a whole lot of that either,” he chuckled breathlessly. He had some, but unlike other heroes, he didn’t necessarily need to be in shape to do his job.

Barry curved his hand to fit against the side of Hal’s torso instead, exploring the dips and valleys on his way back down to his hip. “I don’t mean  _ ripped,” _ Barry said, smiling against Hal’s lips. “I mean this. Like  _ you. _ It’s nice.” He licked his lips; Hal felt the quick dart of it against his own. “I can stop touching it if you don’t want me to.”

“Fuck, you can do whatever you want,” Hal groaned, hooking his ankle around the back of Barry’s leg. “Just don’t stop moving.”

Barry shuddered against him, and then Hal found himself tugged back in for another hurried kiss. Their grinding turned desperate, losing its rhythm as Barry traded technique for eagerness; Hal truly didn’t care, not when each rock pressed against his dick just right. He wasn’t normally one for coming in his underwear - cleaning up was a bitch, and Hal liked to get at naked skin when he was allowed to - but fuck, something about this was really,  _ really _ doing it for him. 

He was going to come. That was a fact, not a hope.

The realisation rushed over Hal like the warmth of a hot bath, sinking into his bones with single-minded certainty. He whined against Barry’s mouth as he jerked against Hal, lacking finesse and grinding Hal’s zipper against his dick, but Christ, he didn’t care, it didn’t matter, he was going to come anyway regardless of how much this rubbed him raw.

“Hal,” Barry breathed, hooking his hand around Hal’s hip to  _ tug _ him up into the next roll of his hips. They’d never said each other’s names during this, not in the middle of a kiss or even their more serious makeout sessions, so to hear it now while Barry was rasping and wrecked almost tipped Hal straight over the edge.

Barry pulled him closer again, meeting Hal’s hips with his own, and Hal dug his fingers in and just  _ held on.  _

“Fuck,” Hal hissed, his head thumping back against the arm of the couch helplessly, “fuck, Bar, shit-”

_ “Hal,” _ Barry whined very, very quietly into the crook of his neck. His grip on Hal’s hip turned near painful, but Hal  _ hoped _ that there would be bruises, some proof that this had happened in the morning, just so he knew it wasn’t a dream. His thoughts spiralled away from him, and his legs clamped tighter to Barry’s sides, as if he didn’t want to let him go.

And then Barry stilled, shivering in his arms with a broken noise, and oh,  _ God, _ he was coming, he was coming from grinding against Hal, he was mouthing at the collar of Hal’s shirt as he tried to catch his breath-

And Hal fell right over the edge with him with a ragged noise, one that would have been Barry’s name if he hadn’t caught it last minute. Warmth rushed up to meet him, flooding his senses as he panted into the air above them, still idly shifting up to meet the tiny rocks of Barry’s hips as he rode out the aftershocks. It was, quite possibly, the best orgasm of his life, all because of a little kissing on Barry’s couch.

He came down slowly, sucking in deep breaths in an effort to ease the dizzy feeling in his head. Barry was slumped over him, his face hidden away in the crook of Hal’s neck, and he let him stay there for now. Hal wasn’t looking forward to the aftermath of this, so he wouldn’t disturb Barry until he was ready. 

Instead, he gave in, and he idly stroked a hand up and down Barry’s back as they relaxed again. Hal’s legs slumped, one sliding to let his socked foot slap down onto the floor, and he wrinkled his nose at the sudden reminder of the wetness in his underwear now. While it had been hot as hell, he hadn’t factored in  _ that _ part beyond a simple passing thought.

“I, uh.” Hal cleared his throat. “I didn’t bring any spare underwear.”

Barry stiffened. For a moment, Hal thought he’d fucked up, but then Barry began to shake with quiet laughter. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” Hal eased both palms down Barry’s back, letting them come to rest on the small of his back. 

“Hal, you’re staying over tonight. How did you not bring spare underwear?”

“Okay, I have  _ one _ other pair, but I didn’t think I’d be using them already. In my defence, I kinda thought they’d be for the trip home tomorrow.”

Barry shifted in his arms, so Hal reluctantly let them fall away. He stayed put as Barry pushed himself up, and he stifled a snort when he saw discomfort flicker briefly across Barry’s face; evidently, he was having the exact same problem as Hal. “Okay, fair,” he said, grunting as he pulled himself back up to kneeling. Hal stayed put on his back, happily taking the opportunity to admire Barry fresh after coming: his cheeks were bright pink, and there were similar splotches all the way down to the collar of his shirt. His lips were red from kissing, and his hair was a mess.

Hal felt pretty pleased with himself. He grinned.

“Don’t look so smug,” Barry said, rolling his eyes. “And hey, I need to do laundry anyway, so you can throw your underwear in with it.”

“My hero,” Hal cooed, batting his eyelids.

Barry flicked Hal’s knee before he clambered away, moving somewhat awkwardly. Hal almost laughed again, but he grimaced as he sat up and encountered the exact same issue all over again. “Can I also maybe use your shower?”

“I’m using it first,” Barry said, “but sure. I’ll be quick. You wanna order us some food?”

And just like that, things went back to normal. Hal was impressed with himself, really; once they were both clean and his underwear was merrily spinning in Barry’s washing machine, Hal sunk onto the very same couch in his pyjamas, tucking into his box of noodles while he and Barry bickered playfully over the evening’s entertainment. Somehow, his leg ended up trapped underneath Barry’s again, just like before, but he didn’t mind. It was comfortable, easy, and really, if they weren’t going to talk about what had just happened, this was exactly how Hal wanted to avoid the topic.

Later, when he crashed on the couch, the evening played behind his closed eyelids all over again. He buried himself under his borrowed blanket and ignored the low pulse of heat in his stomach. Barry’s end of the couch was still warm, and Hal guiltily wiggled his feet into the space. 

If he’d thought he was fucked before, this was a whole new level now. Kissing Barry was one thing, but knowing what he sounded like, how he shook in Hal’s arms as he came…

Hal punched his pillow into a better position and buried his face in it. 

Not now, not tonight. His heart was already a twisted mess, and he knew he only had himself to blame. He’d come over here to gently put a stop to this, and instead, Hal had just kept on digging that grave and done the equivalent of beginning to bury himself in it. 

Oh, well, he thought with a twist of bitter humour, at least he’d gotten enough jerkoff material to last him the rest of his life.


	3. Third Base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner! 
> 
> There'll probably be a slight delay before I post chapters 4 and 5 - I need to finish chapter 5, and I'd ideally like to do that before I post the next one!
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers do not interact.

Hal belatedly realised that he didn’t really see other people as much after that. 

It took another few rolls in the hay, a few similar occasions of coming on Barry’s couch for him to realise that. He lost count of how many times it had happened; it wasn’t every time they hung out, but the lines between practice and just idly getting off blurred until they hovered somewhere more in the middle. They didn’t discuss it, but Hal _did_ start bringing extra underwear whenever he went to Barry’s, just in case. 

So far, it hadn’t progressed beyond what they had already done: grinding until they came, grabbing at each other desperately to ride it out. The last time, Barry had been so caught up that he’d left a hickey on Hal’s neck, and Hal had come hard enough that he’d seen stars.

He didn’t expect anything else, not really. If that was all that Barry wanted, then that was just fine by him. It was good, it was hot, and it haunted Hal’s every waking moment - so, in essence, it was the perfect kind of sex. 

He did, however, take the initiative and get tested since he didn’t plan on going out again anytime soon. Hal always took precautions whenever he went home with someone else, but it never hurt to be _too_ careful, especially considering Barry was the only one he was technically _seeing_ right now. It was reassuring to know that he had a clean bill of health regardless of whether they did anything with it, but it _did_ also leave the door open in case Barry wanted to go further.

Hal neatly folded up his results and tucked them away somewhere safe in his room, satisfied once now that he had all the confirmation he needed. 

* * *

Then again, Hal knew he was making things much, much worse for himself every time he entertained this. It had only amplified his feelings for Barry, left him hungry for those few nights he could get _almost_ exactly what he craved, and it made it that much more disappointing when they went their separate ways afterwards. 

Still, it didn’t stop him from straddling Barry’s lap, panting as he planted his knees into the cushions either side of his thighs. Barry’s hands settled on his hips, his thumbs pressing into the bone as Hal descended to kiss him again. A violent shiver worked its way down Hal’s spine as Barry neatly pulled him closer and then _down,_ right where there was a bulge in Barry’s sweats. Hal exhaled a shaky breathy as he rocked against Barry’s abdomen.

One thing was for sure: Barry had gotten a hell of a lot more confident. This wasn’t the same fumbling man Hal had kissed a month ago; he’d changed, grown, and now he knew just what got Hal going.

It was a dangerous game, one that Hal was entirely too willing to play.

“Fuck,” Hal hissed, shuddering as Barry’s hips lifted up to meet his again. It was a dirty pantomime of what they could get if they went far enough, and just that one thought had Hal swallowing back a whimper. 

Barry’s lips pressed against the corner of Hal’s jaw, his breath coming in little puffs as he guided Hal into a neat little roll. Hal squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to keep himself from coming too quickly; they’d done it enough now that Barry would definitely notice, and he really didn’t want to embarrass himself _that_ much. God, the thought of Barry fucking him _did_ things to him, though, and this definitely wasn’t the first time it had crossed Hal’s mind.

One of Barry’s hands disappeared from Hal’s side, and he kept up the rhythm easily by himself, deliberately grinding down into Barry’s lap nice and slow just to get a reaction. Barry made a quiet noise against the shell of his ear, and Hal grinned to himself, clutched at his shoulders a little harder-

And then _wheezed_ when a too hot palm cupped him through his sweats.

“Oh, shit,” Hal gasped, shivering as Barry curved his fingers around him through the fabric. It wasn’t quite right at this angle, not quite perfect and definitely too rough with the cotton there, but it just about turned his world upside down. If he’d thought grinding was good, then Barry touching his dick opened an entire new universe of pleasure before him.

Barry licked his lips. His breathing came a little heavier, a little rougher as he asked, “Can I- Can I touch you, Hal?”

 _“Oh_ my God, _please,”_ Hal groaned, dropping his head forwards to bury his face in Barry’s neck. “Can I get you back?”

Barry shivered underneath him in a quick little buzz, so fast that it was probably more of a vibration than anything else. Either way, the judder of his hand felt good, and Hal muffled another little noise in Barry’s collar. Really, he thought, considering they were about to touch dicks, they could probably get rid of their shirts too, but he wasn’t entirely sure he remembered how to work his tongue. 

_“Please,”_ Barry whined, and Hal’s self control snapped.

He pushed himself upright, and then dropped both hands to Barry’s waistband. His mouth watered as he fished Barry out of his underwear, pausing only to lick a stripe up his palm before he took him in hand properly. Quite frankly, he didn’t even _care_ that Barry hadn’t made it past plucking at the strings of his sweats; it was worth every bit of the delay for the way Barry whispered his name and jerked underneath him, bucking hard enough that it might have dislodged Hal if he hadn’t dug his knees into the couch.

 _“Hal,”_ he gasped, “Hal, let me get-”

“Busy,” Hal breathed. He glanced down between them, just to admire the way his fingers fit around Barry’s dick. He stroked down to the base and then up again in one easy slide, and swallowed hard as the head disappeared inside his fist. It didn’t even occur to him to compare his memory of his impressive bulge in his jeans against what was in his hand now, not when he was so damn desperate to just get his hand on Barry.

 _God,_ Hal wanted to blow him. 

He felt hands fumbling at his waistband, and he sat up just enough to give Barry some more room to work with. Just the first brush of Barry’s fingers made him shiver, and he knew for a _fact_ that he twitched against Barry’s palm as he eased the sweats down below his dick. The way Barry held him seemed almost reverent; Hal shivered as Barry cradled him carefully and brushed his thumb just over the head, light and fleeting.

It was, Hal abruptly realised, Barry’s first time touching another guy’s dick. No wonder he’d asked and then been so eager to follow through.

“Let me know what feels good,” Barry said, his voice hushed and rough. 

Hal stroked down to Barry’s base again, relishing the slide of his palm along his length. Even here, Barry ran hotter than normal; Hal was intimately familiar with it on himself, for starters, and he knew he wasn’t _that_ warm to the touch. It was an odd sensation, but one that he was quickly becoming addicted to.

The same could easily be said for Barry’s hands. _God,_ the temperature alone already made it the best handjob Hal had ever received. He shuddered as Barry kept pace with his slow, steady strokes, more just to feel each other out than to really wind themselves up any tighter. Hal forced himself to be patient, to wait as Barry adjusted his grip here and there to find whatever was most comfortable for his wrist, for his fingers, but God, it was torture. Just to be a little shit, he thumbed underneath the head of Barry’s dick, pressing just a little harder than necessary to make him suck in a quick little breath.

“Impatient,” Barry teased, glancing up at him.

Hal made the fatal mistake of meeting his gaze. So far, they’d been too busy hungrily kissing or hiding in each other’s shoulders to make much eye contact in the middle of doing anything, so seeing the way Barry’s pupils were blown so wide that the blue of his irises were just a thin ring made something deep in his stomach quiver. 

“Maybe I am,” Hal shot back, arching an eyebrow. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Barry opened his mouth, and then promptly closed it again as a flush rose on his cheeks. It was somehow adorable for a man who had his hand on Hal’s cock.

“C’mon,” Hal said when Barry came up with nothing, rocking into Barry’s palm and squeezing him gently at the same time. “I can think of a couple ways to shut me up.”

Barry blinked a couple of times, almost too fast for Hal to see, and then there was a lazy smile winding its way across his face. “Are you gonna share with the class, or…?”

“Well, jerking me off, for one,” Hal said, sliding his hand down Barry’s dick deliberately slowly. Barry’s breath stuttered in his chest, and his hips lifted minutely into Hal’s touch. “That’s a pretty surefire way to get me to stop talking.”

A second idea rose to the tip of his tongue, only to die before he could get it out. Maybe suggesting Barry silence him with his dick was a _little_ too much this time.

Luckily, Barry kissed him again, and well, that was a pretty good way to keep him quiet, too. 

They fell into an easy rhythm from there. Hal braced himself with a forearm on Barry’s shoulder, and he shifted into Barry’s fist maybe a little too eagerly as they built up speed. It didn’t matter that Barry’s technique was a little off because of his lack of experience from this angle; to Hal, it was fucking perfect, and there was more than enough slick at the head of his dick to make up for the lack of lube on hand. 

He paused just to drag the flat of his tongue across his own palm again, and as he curled his fingers back around Barry’s dick, Barry rumbled a ragged noise against his ear. “God,” he breathed, bucking up into his touch, “are you always this- this _wet?”_

Hal nipped at the corner of Barry’s jaw. “Yeah. Just happens.”

It took him a second to realise that the noise Barry made was a _whine._ “That’s hot,” he whispered, turning to nose into the side of Hal’s jaw. His grip on his dick tightened, and Hal sucked in a quick breath as Barry’s stroking sped up just a little - still a human pace, thank God, because Hal wasn’t entirely sure he knew what he’d do if Barry kicked it up to superspeed. _“Fuck,_ Hal,” he hissed, and then Barry’s lips were on his again, his free hand tangling in his shirt as he kissed Hal furiously.

Hal helplessly tumbled forwards against him, barely catching himself with a palm on the back of the couch as he mumbled wordlessly into Barry’s mouth. Pleasure fizzed underneath his skin as he rocked into his touch, his breaths coming quick and heavy in the scant space between them. God, usually a little jerking off didn’t get him _this_ wound up, but Hal was beginning to realise that just about anything with Barry tended to send him off the rails.

He broke away just to pant, pressing his forehead against Barry’s as he panted. “I’m gonna come,” he admitted, clumsily twisting his wrist on the next upstroke. “Fuck, Barry, I’m-”

The rest of his sentence died in his mouth, because suddenly Barry’s hand buzzed around his dick, and oh, Christ, Hal had forgotten that Barry could fucking _vibrate._

“Oh,” Hal gasped, the sound hitching in his throat. He buried his face in Barry’s shoulder, trembling as Barry’s fingers did that _thing_ again right around the head of his dick, and then he let out a long, drawn out groan of Barry’s name as it _finally_ washed over him. He was loosely aware of the slick slide of Barry’s hand around him, of the way Barry exhaled _‘Hal’_ in return and fucked up into the circle of Hal’s hand. Warmth spilled over his fingers, but Hal couldn’t do much more than dazedly squeeze and leave it up to Barry; his brain felt like mush, and coupled with the now familiar sound of Barry in the midst of his orgasm, Hal was pretty sure that he’d ascended.

They stayed slumped together as they caught their breath. Hal politely tucked Barry back into his sweats, but he was determined to ignore the tackiness on his hand as they recovered; he didn’t want to get up before he really, really had to. Barry was a surprisingly comfortable mattress, and a wonderfully warm one at that. 

If he turned his head just enough, he could hear Barry’s heartbeat. Hal listened to it as it gradually slowed, taking comfort in the steady _ba-thump, ba-thump_ of it. Barry rested his cheek against the top of Hal’s head, and he could almost pretend that they didn’t need to have sex to get here.

Hal swallowed hard. If he was starting to think bittersweet thoughts, it was time to break the silence. “So,” he said, propping himself up with a forearm on Barry’s shoulder, “you were holding onto that one, huh? Vibrating, Barry, really? Bonus points here, but you know you can’t use that on your future dates, right?”

Barry’s cheeks turned pink all over again. “Yeah, no. I- I know.”

A bolt of heat shot straight to Hal’s groin. There was no chance in hell he could get it up again anytime soon, but the idea that Barry had deliberately done that just for _him…_

That was dangerously intoxicating.

Hal hoped that Barry couldn’t see the little crisis he was having. “I- Well, thanks, I guess? It was hot, ten out of ten, dude. Felt great. Can’t feel my dick now. Better than an actual vibrator.”

Barry snorted. “You’re welcome.” And then, frowning, he added, “Wait, better than an actual vibrator? You’ve used one on your dick?”

Hal raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t?”

Only somewhat sheepishly, Barry raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Don’t need one.”

Hal couldn’t help it: he openly stared. “Okay, I know we have a sort of _Fight Club_ thing going on here where we don’t talk about this shit outside of the moment, but Barry, that is the single hottest thing you have _ever_ fucking said.” 

Clearly, his moment to disengage had come, because to save himself from any further embarrassment, Hal scooted back off of Barry’s lap to get to his feet. “Now, what do you want to eat? I’m starving.”

Barry blinked up at him, and for a moment, Hal wondered if he was going to say something else. He didn’t, but he did agree on a couple of hearty pizzas, and then he sped off to rush his way through a shower. It left Hal with entirely too much time to contemplate the imprint of Barry’s ass and his knees in the couch cushions, and by the time they swapped places so he could properly clean up, Hal’s brain had already lined up a good five fantasies for the next time he took a certain matter into his own hands.

* * *

The thing was, the sex wouldn’t have been as much of a problem if feelings hadn’t been involved. Hal was pretty good about keeping casual sex separate from his everyday thoughts; he did it and he went home, his libido was satisfied, and that was that. He carried on with his usual routine, which tended to revolve around Lantern work, hanging out with Barry or contemplating his crush on him, and sitting around with his dick in his hand. Sometimes, the latter two overlapped.

The only reason why every encounter stuck with him was because it was _Barry,_ and it was beginning to take its toll.

It wasn’t even the sex that replayed in his mind the most. It was good - _fantastic,_ even - and it certainly starred in Hal’s solo time whenever he settled in for it, but the parts that he really lingered on always came in the aftermath. In those few stolen minutes afterwards, where they stayed pressed together and laughed and, on occasion, traded lazy kisses back and forth, Hal always found himself trapped somewhere between euphoria and the dread of knowing that there was a time limit. Once they separated, there was no way to bridge the gap again until they tumbled back onto the couch next time.

Hal thought long and hard about saying something. 

Because really, at the end of the day, would it be so bad to ask Barry out for an actual date? Odds were, it wouldn’t be that different from their usual evenings together. Hal would have been content with the exact same, in fact, and it didn’t even have to end in sex. Hell, he liked just spending time with Barry, and if he got to crawl into bed beside him after an evening without taking a single piece of clothing off, he’d gladly trade all of the vibrating-hand orgasms in the world just to snooze against Barry’s shoulder.

But on the other hand, saying anything would probably result in trading those in anyway, because there was no way in hell that Barry felt the same. Hal was painfully aware of how quickly all of this would come to a stop if he knew how Hal felt, purely because Barry was too fucking nice and cared too much, but never in the right way.

So when he next visited and Barry gave him that look, Hal agreed instantly, hungry for the scraps he could get. Any thoughts of confessing died on his tongue when Barry pressed his palm to the head of Hal’s dick and _vibrated,_ and he didn’t bother to scramble his brains together afterwards. Barry’s fingers stroked through his hair, and Hal soaked up every last drop of affection he could get like it was the first drip of water he’d seen in days.

He couldn’t have Barry, but he had this. It wasn’t enough, never would be, but it had to be.

* * *

Barry was looking far too shifty when he showed up on Hal’s doorstep. 

From previous experience, that meant that he wanted to try something new. Hal looked him up and down as Barry let himself in and tucked his snack and drink offerings into the kitchen, but the only thing he picked out was the little crackle of electricity across his skin as he resisted speeding around Hal’s apartment to put things away. It wasn’t often that Barry abused the speedforce in a more domestic setting - something about great power and great responsibility, which was a memo that Hal had never received - but he did, on occasion, try to get things done a little quicker, and if he was holding back, it was because he knew he was too distracted to go at the _right_ speed if he indulged.

So Hal settled in to wait. He tried not to get too worked up thinking about the what ifs, not when he had no idea if it was going to be a positive or negative result. There was no use in entertaining any thrumming arousal if it couldn’t go anywhere.

When Barry joined him on the couch, he sat stiffly, awkwardly. He handed Hal his drink, but he didn’t open up his own; instead, he tapped his nails on the glass too quickly, drumming in a quick _click-click-click_ that would’ve been irritating if it wasn’t him. Still, Hal poked Barry’s calf with his big toe, and he bit back a laugh when Barry jumped about a foot in the air like a startled cat. 

“Relax,” Hal said, bumping his leg again. “Jesus, you haven’t _breathed_ the whole time you’ve been here. What’s up?”

He watched as Barry very deliberately, obviously inhaled, and he offered Barry a little grin in response. Amusement flickered at the corners of Barry’s eyes for just a moment, and then it was gone again as he looked away. “You can say no,” he began, his fingers finally stilling on his beer.

Hal sat up a little straighter. “I probably won’t,” he said, trying for joking and ending up somewhere in the region of calmly curious. “What is it?”

Barry closed his eyes. “I… Okay, so we’ve kissed, we’ve made out, we’ve- we’ve jerked each other off-”

“A lot,” Hal interrupted with a shit-eating grin, just to make Barry laugh. 

It worked; he puffed out a quiet chuckle, and he finally started to loosen up. He leaned forwards to put his drink down by his feet, and then he relaxed back into the couch cushions. His smile lingered, and Hal wasn’t entirely sure if he was imagining the fondness at the edges of it. “Yeah,” he huffed, “yeah, a lot. But still, if this is too much, then just say so, okay? I don’t- I don’t want to overstep.”

“If it’s sex related, it’s probably a yes already,” Hal said, waving a hand. Sure, they hadn’t talked about the limits of their sort of friends with benefits situation, but Hal never tried to go further than what Barry had explicitly asked for. And if what he asked for was everything, then he’d _gladly_ give it. “Go on, Bar.”

“I just-” Barry cut himself off, and he was right back to fidgeting again. He trapped his hands between his thighs, but Hal was pretty sure he could see a telltale buzz that meant he wanted to bounce his knees. “Blowjobs are an _acquired_ skill, right? You don’t just… jump into it knowing exactly what to do.”

Hal’s mouth went dry. He suddenly regretted not opening his beer already, but this definitely didn’t seem like the sort of conversation to have with it. Odds were, if it _had_ been open, he’d have choked anyway. “I- Yeah, you’re right. My, uh- My first few weren’t the best. Probably. I wasn’t told.”

Barry glanced up at him, an eyebrow raised. “I think that’s the first time I haven’t heard you brag about sex.”

Hal lifted his foot again. “I _will_ poke you with my toe again, dude. Excuse me for trying to be relatable and helpful.”

“I appreciate the effort,” Barry said, sounding entirely too sarcastic for Hal’s liking. He poked Barry anyway, snorting with laughter when he batted Hal’s ankle to get him to leave him alone. “Anyway,” Barry continued, abruptly staring down at his hands again, “is that… is that something that’s on the table? Again, you can say no, it’s fine, it’s not- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Just one question.”

Barry looked up. Hal couldn’t tell if he looked surprised or excited, or just both. Maybe both. “Go for it.”

Hal licked his lips. “Are you just looking to give, or are you open to receiving, too?”

A delicious flush stole across Barry’s cheeks. Judging by the look on his face, it hadn’t even occurred to him that Hal might want to get him in return; the scientist in him had probably been more concerned with the act itself, with learning from one particular side, given that he already knew what it was like from the other angle. Hal took far too much pleasure in watching Barry try to find his words again, his usually quick mind tripped up like a stuttering motor.

“I- If you wanted to, I wouldn’t say no,” he said eventually, shifting where he sat. “I, uh. Would you believe me if I said I hadn’t thought about it?”

Hal leaned forwards to set his beer on the coffee table with a solid thunk. “Oh, no, I can _definitely_ tell you hadn’t thought about it. And it’s _absolutely_ something I want to do. Did I seriously never mention how much I like giving blowjobs? You always said I was the king of oversharing, I must have mentioned it.” 

“Once or twice, maybe,” Barry laughed softly. 

As Hal settled in again, he glanced across at Barry, and yep, he was still blushing. When he got comfortable against the cushions, Hal spread his knees just the tiniest bit more than normal, just to watch Barry’s cheeks redden a little more. 

This was dangerous. Too dangerous.

“So it’s a yes?” Barry asked.

Hal nodded. “Yeah.”

He blinked, and then there were hands on his knees, shoulders nudging them further apart, a crackle of electricity in the air-

“Jesus,” Hal hissed, staring _down_ at Barry now. “You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t realise you meant now.”

Barry looked sheepish. His hands stilled on Hal’s thighs, his fingers fanned out to cover as much ground as possible, and there was no reason that it should feel so wonderfully _familiar_ . Sure, Barry wasn’t shy about touching after they’d progressed to getting their hands on each other’s dicks, but Hal’s breath caught at the gentle pressure of his palms and the way they rested there as if they had hundreds of times before. It was abruptly too much, and _nowhere_ near enough.

“We can wait until later?” Barry murmured, phrasing it more like a question. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume that that was a _yes right now.”_

“No, no, go for it.” Hal puffed out a quick breath. There was no way in hell he was going to turn this down. The sight of Barry on his knees was already one that was burned into Hal’s retinas, just like the afterglow of Lantern light if he stared at it too long. “Might need to warm myself up a little, but it’s good.”

“Well…” Barry’s smile was decidedly _not_ shy this time. His palms skated higher, up to rest on Hal’s hips with his thumbs pointing towards his groin. “I can help you with warming up.”

Hal closed his eyes for a moment just to steady himself. Barry was going to be the death of him; fuck going out in a fight, he was never going to make it off of this couch ever again. _“Ha,_ you know, Bar, just saying that’s done half the job,” Hal laughed, though even to his own ears it sounded slightly hysterical. 

Barry’s right hand shifted, crossing the gap, and _there,_ there was his palm against Hal’s dick, pressing and grinding the heel of his hand just right to get Hal worked up. He tipped his head back against the couch, sucking in a few desperate breaths. He wanted to just give himself over to the pleasure, to just enjoy it while Barry took his time, but there was something else, something gnawing at his brain as a reminder, something-

“Wait,” Hal said, “hold on, wait. Bar, do you-” He swallowed hard. God, he’d never been this awkward about this fucking question. “Do you want a condom?”

Barry paused. “Are you clean?”

“Got the all clear a couple of weeks ago.”

“Then I’m good.”

Hal blinked at him. “You’re good? You don’t-”

“I, uh.” Barry rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I might as well try the full experience while I’m with someone I trust, right?”

And there it was. Hal was definitely going to die.

“Up to you, dude,” Hal said weakly, sinking into the couch. “I’m good with whatever, I’m just happy to be here.”

“I think we can do a little better than just happy,” Barry said, palming him through his jeans again. Hal barked out a sharp laugh, buckling over Barry for just a moment with the bizarre combination of amusement and pleasure. It was, somehow, still so _Barry_ while also being one of those startlingly hot moments from him. It was like the fucking _vibrator_ conversation all over again.

Barry’s fingers skimmed up to unbutton and unzip, and Hal lifted his hips to help Barry get his jeans down past his knees. He didn’t waste any time on Hal’s underwear; he brushed his fingers against his length where it pressed against the fabric under the waistband, and then Barry tugged it down to tuck it behind Hal’s balls, out of the way so he had plenty of room to work. Hal swallowed hard at the first brush of the cool apartment air, and he twisted his fingers into the cushion covers either side of his hips. Maybe if he kept his hands to himself, he could hang onto a little bit of his sanity while he was at it.

“So,” Barry said, circling his fingers around the base to steady him. “How do I… start?”

 _Deep breaths, Jordan,_ he reminded himself. If Barry was going to use this for _Blowjob 101,_ Hal was going to be as patient as possible; there would be no rushing, no hurrying him along just so he could get to come. This was about Barry, about introducing him to the idea so he knew what to do later. The whole point of Hal being here was so Barry could do this without the fear of tripping up.

The touch of his hand and the gentle puffs of warm breath near his dick didn’t make it any easier, but it did mean he probably didn’t need that much warming up after all. Barry’s gaze was on his, but he occasionally glanced south, and he flushed just a little redder every time he did. It would have been cute if it hadn’t been driving Hal up the wall.

“However you want,” Hal said, forcibly casual. “Think about blowjobs you’ve had, dude. Touching, a little licking. Build up to it.”

Barry nodded, and Christ, now he really was just looking at Hal’s dick. He tried not to squirm. “What about… actually doing it? How do you not choke?”

“Just be careful of your limits,” Hal replied. He closed his eyes, and he did his best to think unsexy thoughts. Puppies. The cold depths of space. The terrifying drop from way too high up over Coast City whenever he made it back to Earth. “Don’t take too much before you’re ready. Listen to your gag reflex. Please don’t throw up on my dick.”

He _felt_ more than heard Barry’s laugh, purely because of the stutter in the breath against his skin. Hal gritted his teeth. “No throwing up,” he agreed. “I’d rather not.”

“Oh, good,” Hal said breathlessly, “glad we’re on the same page.”

Barry’s palm dragged up his length, his fingers curled how he knew Hal liked, and Hal swallowed hard. This was easy, familiar. This was just Barry jerking him off, teasing his fingers along the thick vein along the underside just to get him going. He could feel the weight of Barry’s gaze on him, but rather than put him off, it only made him that much harder. He had to bite the inside of his cheek hard just to keep himself from rocking up into Barry’s fist.

And then there was a dart of wetness against his skin. Hal sucked in a quick breath as Barry came back again, the tip of his tongue quick and fleeting near the base of his cock. He felt himself twitch, and almost casually, Barry shifted his grip, moving his fingers closer to the head as he explored the lower half of Hal’s dick. It held him still, kept him in place while he experimented, and Hal was more than happy to sit back and let him do whatever he wanted.

He never stayed still, though, and he didn’t build up any sort of rhythm. Hal clenched his teeth hard as Barry hummed thoughtfully right next to his dick, close enough that Hal swore he felt the vibration of it. “Tastes like skin,” Barry said.

“Uh huh,” Hal replied intelligently. 

Barry dragged his fist up and down again, stroking Hal as if to help keep him erect - which, really, that wasn’t a problem at all. Hal didn’t think he’d ever been harder in his life. 

The soft, warm touch of Barry’s tongue came back again, flicking underneath the head before moving on again. He tilted his head for a better angle, and Hal felt the gentle brush of Barry’s hair against his thigh as he mouthed at the side of his cock. His fingers twitched against the couch, but he stayed firm; not even the curious, wet brush at the head of his dick could convince him to let go of the cushions, even if it did finally force a strangled noise out of the back of his throat.

Barry’s mouth abruptly lifted away. “You okay?”

God, Hal’s thoughts were scrambled. He took a deep breath, held it, and then when he exhaled, he carefully said, “If you’re trying to be a tease, then congrats, dude. You’ve definitely succeeded.”

“Oh.” Barry shifted between his knees. “Whoops?”

Hal puffed out a weak laugh. “It’s fine, Bar. Do whatever you want, take your time.”

“Hm.” Barry’s free hand landed lightly on Hal’s thigh, and he drummed his fingers against it thoughtfully. “That doesn’t sound fair, exactly.”

“I’m doing fine,” Hal promised. He was hard pressed not to buck into Barry’s grip; he’d gone completely still while they talked, and Hal fucking _ached,_ but he wasn’t about to push him. “Seriously, I’m good. Take it at your own pace.”

Barry didn’t reply, so Hal figured he’d taken his advice to heart. He sighed and settled back into the couch, determined to find some kind of calm headspace where he could just _exist_ until Barry moved on. He’d had partners edge him before, and this wasn’t that different, at the end of the day.

And then Barry licked a stripe up his dick from base to tip, and Hal coughed out a moan. 

_“Barry,”_ he hissed, surprised. Barry just snickered quietly like the asshole he secretly was. _“Dude._ Warn a guy.”

“Nope,” Barry replied far too cheerfully. 

Hal opened his eyes - which was _instantly_ the worst kind of mistake, because Christ, Barry between his thighs, his tongue poking out to lap at the head of Hal’s dick was a dizzying sight - and Barry actually _winked_ up at him as he sealed his lips around the tip. He didn’t go much further than that just yet, dragging the flat of his tongue over it curiously, carefully between sucks, but it was more than enough to make Hal openly groan.

It was just - it was just _so much,_ and they’d barely gotten started. Barry sunk down just a little more only to bob back up again, and then that truly was the end of Hal. The fact that Barry was figuring out how to piece it all together, bit by bit, was more than enough to destroy him. He even stroked what he didn’t have in his mouth, and Hal’s breath hitched in his chest helplessly. If Barry wasn’t careful, this was going to be over far too quickly.

Barry dipped lower, humming thoughtfully around his dick - Hal’s knuckles clicked with how strong he gripped the couch - and then lower _still,_ shifting his hand out of the way-

And then, with an abrupt gagging noise, he pulled up. Hal blinked past the blinding pleasure of Barry’s mouth, swimming back to relative consciousness, and then hissed out a breath when Barry pressed down only to choke _again,_ the determined bastard. 

Hal’s resolve broke. His hand flitted to Barry’s hair, tangling in it just to gently ease him off of his dick entirely. “Dude, what did I say about listening to your limits?”

Barry swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I was experimenting,” he said, and _Christ,_ Hal was not strong enough to ignore the way his voice sounded a little rough around the edges now. “I was curious to see how much I could… you know.”

“You don’t need to take everything to make it good,” Hal promised him. It was already easily the best blowjob of his life simply because of who was giving it, but Hal kept that little fact to himself. It didn’t matter that Barry was inexperienced, not when it was _him._ “Enthusiasm and just basic shit goes a long way, Bar.”

A doubtful look passed over Barry’s face as he returned his hand to Hal’s dick. “Hal, you don’t have to protect my ego. I know I’m not doing great so far.”

“Hey.” Hal poked Barry’s cheek playfully. “You’re doing fine, seriously.” And then, just to reload the gun and shoot himself in the _other_ foot, he added, “Pretty sure I’m gonna come soon anyway, so.”

Barry stared up at him, his lips parted. The fingers around his base squeezed just a little, and Hal’s breath caught in his throat. “You were gonna come?” Barry asked quietly.

Hal swallowed hard. _“Soon,”_ he corrected, as if that fucking mattered at this point.

When Barry exhaled, it came out shaky; Hal would have been concerned if it hadn’t been for the heavy, wanting look on Barry’s face that he was all too familiar with by now. “Guess I’d better hurry it up, then.”

And before Hal could find the energy to reply, Barry descended on him again, sinking down onto what he could comfortably take this time. A strangled noise spilled out of Hal before he could try to stop it, encouraged by the way Barry’s tongue played against the underside of his dick as he drew up to the head again. Somehow, he’d managed to start picking up his own little tricks already - ones that, Hal realised, would be tailored to _his_ reactions, and that _definitely_ didn’t help how close he was already - and each one was systematically pulling Hal apart.

Politely, Hal made to let his hand drop back to the couch, but Barry’s hand snapped up to gently catch his wrist and guide him back to his head. 

Hal licked his lips as he threaded his fingers into Barry’s hair. “You sure?”

Barry hummed. The sound buzzed along Hal’s skin, right down to his bones. That sounded like a yes, so Hal curled his fingers around a few messy strands and curved his palm against Barry’s skull. He was determined not to apply any pressure, so he just _touched,_ just held him as Barry built up his own rhythm. It was almost unbearably intimate, despite the fact that Hal had done that exact thing with so many other partners.

It all just came down to Barry. Hal dropped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes as his breathing turned ragged with his mounting pleasure, his thoughts spinning out of his control. Everything always circled right back around to Barry; he thought about him when he was alone and cherished the time when they were together, no matter what they did. 

Abruptly, Hal realised just how _gone_ he was for Barry. This wasn’t just a crush anymore. He didn’t know if it was the sex or just the natural progression of things, but somewhere along the way, Hal’s heart hadn’t received the message that the emotional part was one-sided. 

Applying the ‘L’ word to his feelings was just the slightest bit terrifying, even if it was true.

Somehow, that just propelled him closer to the edge. Hal bit his lower lip as he fought a telltale tremble in his thighs. “Bar,” he panted, tugging gently at his hair, “Bar, I’m close.”

Barry just hummed again. He threw in a neat little twist of his wrist as he jacked off what he couldn’t reach with his mouth, and the warning tingle in Hal’s stomach turned into more immediate alarm bells. There was no denying it or putting it off now: he was going to come sooner rather than later, even if Barry slowed down now. 

“Barry,” Hal forced out, a little more firmly. He was trying to be polite, damn it. “I’m gonna _come._ Pull off if-”

He cut himself off with a sharp inhale when Barry flicked his tongue against the tip of his dick on his way up. Clearly, he was trying to test Hal’s patience, or maybe just his ability to hold out, because he hovered just above the head as he licked his lips. 

“I don’t care,” Barry murmured, stroking Hal from base to tip and back again. “I’m _trying_ to get you to come.” And then, without further prompting, he sunk down again, enveloping Hal once more in heat and wet and oh, Christ, he wasn’t going to last-

Hal made a noise that he barely recognised, one that was dragged out from somewhere deep within his vocal chords. His hips shifted just slightly without his permission - he’d been as still as possible this entire time, just so he didn’t choke Barry by accident - but now he was restless, bucking up into Barry’s hand and mouth the tiniest bit. Barry rode the motion, lifting up just a little so he didn’t hit the back of his throat, only to press back down to the circle of his fingers when Hal settled back on the couch again. Hal tossed his free arm across his eyes as he repeated it, Barry gripped him just a little tighter-

Pleasure ripped through Hal like a wildfire, coursing along his nerves in a sudden rush. He whimpered something that sounded close enough to Barry’s name, and his hips rocked up into his touch to chase more, more, _more._ Distantly, he felt the way Barry’s tongue rolled as he swallowed, and little sparks burst into life behind his closed eyelids. His motions slowed as Hal settled, but he didn’t let up straight away; he knew enough from when they’d fooled around before to know what Hal liked, so he lingered there, carefully stroking Hal as he softened. He rose up with one last kiss to the head of his dick, and just that made Hal shiver.

It was, quite simply, the best and most overwhelming orgasm of his life. 

“Holy shit,” he rasped. Barry laughed quietly from between his knees.

His arm dropped back to the couch with a thump. Steeling himself, Hal opened his eyes, and he felt a bold little bolt of want spear him in the abdomen at the sight; Barry’s lips were red, his cheeks were flushed, and when Hal dropped his gaze down, he spotted a significant bulge in his jeans. His mouth watered.

“So,” Barry said, and then paused to clear his throat. “How-”

“Amazing,” Hal groaned, reaching for him. He fisted his hands in Barry’s shirt and hauled him back up off of the floor. 

Barry went willingly, dropping into his lap when Hal tugged him closer. He paused, though, shifting back just a little bit when Hal tilted his head for a kiss. “Wait, Hal, I taste-”

“Don’t care,” Hal murmured, and then Barry closed the gap between them for a nice, lazy kiss. Hal’s chest buzzed with the newly realised strength of his feelings, but he only allowed himself this one guilty little moment before he pulled away. “Offer’s still on the table, by the way, Bar. If you want the same back…”

His gaze dropped to Hal’s lips. “I- Only if you want to.”

“Oh, I definitely do.” Hal had never wanted anything more in his life. He patted Barry’s hip, nudging him towards the open expanse of the couch. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Barry slipped off of his thighs to settle in, and Hal got to his feet. His legs were a little weak, but he wasn’t planning to be upright for long anyway. He pulled his jeans back up again, buttoned and zipped himself up, and then finally got between Barry’s thighs. 

He couldn’t count how many dreams he’d had about this exact scenario. His own mind-blowing orgasm was usually secondary in his fantasies, a separate part that hadn’t always happened yet. Usually, he was more concerned with what Barry would be like in the throes of pleasure, how he’d react and what he might say. 

Hal eased his hands up Barry’s thighs deliberately slowly, just to draw all of his attention down to him. If this was the one chance Hal got, he wanted to make it something to remember. Maybe that was a little selfish of him, but with all of brain cells scattered to the winds, he didn’t really care.

“So,” Hal said, grinning up at him, “your turn.”

“Oh, God,” Barry said quietly. He looked almost _surprised_ to see Hal there, sliding his way ever higher towards his belt, but it was definitely a good sort of surprised. His hands started off either side of him, and then he lifted one, hesitating with it in midair. “Can I- Can I touch you?”

Hal paused with his hands on the buckle. Okay, so maybe being cocky wasn’t the best idea when Barry could still, apparently, ruin him with one question. “Go for it, buddy.”

He tried not to lean into Barry’s palm like a cat, but his touch was so _warm,_ so _soft._ Hal busied himself with working open Barry’s jeans and tugging them down, exhaling hard through his nose as he came face to face with the bulge of Barry’s dick. The only layer left was underwear, but it wasn’t hiding much with how worked up Barry already was.

Hal paused, blinked. He pressed his hand against Barry - he gasped and rocked up into his touch, which Hal filed away for later - and, yep, okay, he needed to see something for himself.

He pulled Barry’s underwear down his thighs, leaving it to pool around his ankles with his jeans. He curled his fingers around Barry’s erection, noted the strangled noise from above him, and ignored it in favour of feeling out just how much he had to work with. 

If Hal hadn’t come already, he would have been desperately floored with the realisation that Barry had a whole fucking _inch_ over him.

“Barry,” Hal said, thumbing the underside almost fondly, “you are gonna have _zero_ problems finding a guy to sleep with you, holy shit.”

“What do you mean?” Barry sounded a little strangled, a little impatient, and Hal couldn’t say he blamed him, really, but there was something more important on his mind right now. Blowing him could wait just another couple of minutes.

Hal tapped his thumb against the head. “You’re packing heat, dude.”

He glanced up in time to see Barry press a hand over his face in embarrassment. “It’s not- I’m not _that_ big, Hal, come on.”

“Are you kidding me? You should come with a choking hazard label.”

“Hal-”

“I’m serious, how do you _run_ with this thing-”

 _“Hal,”_ Barry laughed. It neatly shattered any awkward tension Hal had accidentally created, but Christ. It was a crime that his crush was so gifted; it was like the universe was specifically creating a solution to fuck him over. Maybe it had been playing the long game all along, letting him have _almost_ what he wanted but not exactly it. 

More importantly, Hal wondered how he hadn’t noticed before when he’d had his fucking _hand_ on Barry’s dick. He put it down to being too horny, and to this being the first time their pants had moved any further than their hips.

He steadied Barry’s dick with a hand at the base, but before he could lean too far forwards, Barry brushed a thumb against his cheek and said, “Do you want a condom?”

Hal was so tantalisingly close, but he stopped. “Not unless you do.”

Barry licked his lips. “I- No, I’m good.”

“Then so am I.” 

With that, Hal finally closed the distance, his eyes drifting shut as he opened his mouth around the head. It had briefly occurred to him to tease Barry as revenge for what he’d done when he’d started, but in the end, Hal had simply just been too eager. Maybe another time, he thought, he could get Barry back for that, but the poor guy was so strung out already, and Hal just desperately wanted to get his mouth on him.

So, humming with quiet delight, he curled his tongue against the underside of Barry’s dick on his way down. His free hand fluttered up to rest on the inside of Barry’s thigh for now, simply pressing his palm against warm skin just to touch. He liked the contact - always had, especially when it came to Barry - and while the tangle of Barry’s fingers in his hair was wonderful, it wasn’t quite enough on its own. Barry certainly didn’t seem to mind; he shivered pleasantly when Hal brushed his thumb back and forth, and let out a little noise when he pressed his thumb more deliberately into the muscle under his hand.

He kept it easy to begin with, something that was probably familiar. Hal enjoyed the slow up and down and the relaxed pace it came with; he imagined it was likely a little torturous for Barry when he was so worked up, but he wanted a moment to acclimate himself with Barry’s dick. He was a fan of the length, but he was also painfully aware of just _how much_ he had in his mouth.

And then it was game time.

Barry sighed above him, and Hal pried his eyes open to drink in the sight. His head was tipped back, there was a blush from his cheeks all the way down to the neck of his shirt, and Hal saw the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Barry looked at ease, like he was just riding out the rhythm to its natural end.

Hal, however, had a few tricks up his sleeve he wanted to try. He skimmed his free hand up higher, closer to the base of Barry’s dick, and then _down,_ between his spread thighs. With an easy twist of his wrist, Hal slipped his hand down enough to cup Barry’s balls; he gently rolled them to match a stronger suck as he lifted up to the head again, and Barry muffled a sharp noise behind his wrist. Hal smiled, just a little, even with his mouth full.

It was the perfect distraction. Barry was wonderfully restless and polite at the same time, somehow managing to stay glued to the couch despite the little desperate twitches Hal felt him suppress. Clearly, he _wanted_ to move, but for once in his life, Barry was still; Hal shivered with the knowledge that _he_ had done that.

He gave Barry’s length a quick stroke from base to the circle of his lips, using it as a cover while he readied himself. Hal had a plan - had had one from the minute Barry had said he wanted to try this - and now he was determined to execute it, even with the little surprise Barry had hidden in his underwear. If anything, that had only encouraged him.

He swallowed - Barry whimpered again - and Hal braced himself with a forearm across Barry’s thigh as he followed his hand down. He paused when his lips met his fingers, just to inhale carefully through his nose, and then Hal pressed _further,_ until he felt the head bump against the back of his throat. Hal fought back his gag reflex, ignoring it in favour of swallowing around Barry’s cock and listening to the way his moans rose an octave.

“Hal,” he whimpered, clutching desperately at his hair, _“Hal,_ shit-”

God, Hal wished he could get hard again already. Just the sound of Barry like this would be more than enough to get off to; he felt a low buzz of want in his stomach all over again, but all Hal could do was pull back to snatch a quick breath, stroke Barry while he inhaled, and then sink down all over again. He groaned, somewhere between frustration and want, and Barry _shuddered._

“I’m gonna come,” he panted, hips twitching up against Hal’s forearm. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna come, Hal, _Hal-”_

He moved up just in time for Barry to spurt on his tongue rather than the back of his throat. Hal stroked him through it, rolled his tongue against the underside of his dick just to make him squirm, and swallowed around him again when Barry finally relaxed. He stayed there anyway, teasing him with a couple of licks on his way up to the head; Barry’s thighs twitched as he dragged the flat of his tongue over the head before fully lifting away.

Hal barely bit back a noise when he glanced up. Barry looked wrecked; he hadn’t lifted his head yet, but his fingers stroked through Hal’s hair so heartbreakingly gently, curving to tuck loose strands behind his ear. Fuck, he wanted to kiss him, but that rarely continued _after_ they’d come.

Instead, Hal wrestled Barry’s underwear back up his limp legs to half dress him again. He left his jeans at his feet. Fuck trying to get those back on him.

He dropped onto the couch next to Barry, close enough that their thighs were pressed together. “God,” Barry huffed, prying his eyes open and grinning lazily at Hal.

“Nope, just me,” Hal chirped - or, well, _tried_ to chirp, because his voice sounded pleasantly raspy even to his own ears. Barry thwacked his arm. “What? You look like you’re about one second away from praying.”

“I’m just catching my breath,” Barry replied, rolling his eyes, though there wasn’t as much of a sting in it when he was so relaxed and smiley. “I was gonna tell you how amazing that was, but I don’t think you really need the ego boost, you know.”

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account.” Hal propped his elbow up on the back of the couch and dropped his chin into his hand. He batted his eyelashes at Barry. “Did you have fun?”

Barry snorted. His eyes drifted shut again, and a fond smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Of course I had fun. It was amazing, seriously. Holy shit, Hal.” Tiredly, he bumped his knee against Hal’s. “Thanks for letting me try it.”

Pain lanced through Hal’s chest. _Try it._ Of course. “No problem,” he said, shrugging. He shifted away just a little, and then, thinking better of it, he pushed himself to his feet to seek out his stack of takeout menus. “I mean, hey, I got a blowie out of it, so you’re not gonna hear me complaining. What do you want to eat?”

There was a rustle from behind him, and when he glanced back over his shoulder, Barry was properly dressed again. He paused with his fingers on his belt buckle, halfway through rethreading it. There was an odd little look on his face, something halfway to concerned, and Hal looked back down at his menus again before he could expose himself _too_ much. He’d already done enough of that tonight.

“Whatever you want,” Barry said. His belt clicked as he slotted it back into place.

Hal tossed the menus back onto the counter. “Two giant pizzas it is. Hey, you mind ordering? I think I’m gonna grab a shower before it gets here.”

There was the familiar snap and crackle of electricity, and then Barry was at his side, easing past Hal to reach for their favourite pizza menu. “Go for it. You want the usual?”

“Yup.” Hal pulled himself away from the tantalising warmth of Barry’s side, instead directing himself down the hallway. “I won’t be long. Find us something to watch?”

“Sure,” Barry replied quietly, almost thoughtfully. Hal scarpered, covering up the raw wound in his chest before Barry could look any closer at his stilted, awkward responses.

He took his time in the shower, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the wall as he mouthed curses to himself. Calling this what it really was - nothing more than practice - had stung more than he’d thought it would. 

_Fuck,_ maybe it really was time to call this whole thing off. The sex was some of the best he’d ever had, but pretending was beginning to hurt too much. Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted in the first place, or let this ever go beyond a little kissing, because in the end, Hal hadn’t just shot himself in the foot; he’d taken his whole damn leg off, apparently, and now he’d completely lost his footing. 

Or, maybe, just maybe, he’d sit Barry down and tell him everything. He could pour out his heart, tell him he had feelings for him, ask him if he wanted to go on an actual date. All of this was painfully domestic already, but Hal wanted to be _better_ when he was with Barry. He’d always brought out the best in Hal, right from the very start.

He straightened up with a grimace. Not tonight, not after what they’d already done. Next time, Hal promised himself, he’d talk to Barry before things could go too far. If that was the end of the physical side of things, so be it. He had enough memories to be miserable over, and he knew Barry well enough to be certain that they’d still be friends at the end of it.

When he emerged, Barry was just setting down the pizzas on the coffee table. He offered Hal a warm little smile, and his heart thudded in his chest. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

Hal settled down on the couch next to him, playfully knocking their elbows together. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Barry gave him that odd look again, but he didn’t chase Hal for an answer. He just handed him a beer, flipped open the pizza boxes, and grabbed a slice as he turned his attention to the TV. It was like nothing at all had changed - like nothing had _happened_ over the last hour - but it was so sweetly normal that it made Hal’s chest ache.

 _Soon,_ he promised himself, taking a long sip of his beer. _Next time._


	4. Strikeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 still isn't finished but I'm on the last stretch of it now, so hopefully I can get it up not long after this one! I wanted to wait until it was done before posting 4, but I was getting impatient, whoops.

_ > You home? _

_ Yep. You on your way over? _

No reply. Hal shrugged, tossed his phone onto the coffee table, and heaved himself off of the couch to grab the takeout menus. Barry was probably already running, and Hal had some things to set up anyway. 

He’d been back from Oa for just over twenty-four hours, and he hadn’t heard from Barry in that small window of time so far. That wasn’t unusual; sometimes, Hal touched down at an odd time of day, and they were both busy people with their superhero and day jobs. Really, it was a miracle that their schedules lined up as often as they did. It was why he’d often spent that first night in a bar, seeking out a warm body to spend the evening with; it meant that he could dedicate the rest of that free time to hanging out with his best friend instead of wondering when he’d get a chance to blow off some steam while he was on Earth.

There was a rapid knock at his door. “It’s open,” Hal called, turning and dropping the menus on the table. 

Barry let himself in, and when he met Hal’s eyes, there was a huge grin on his face. Hal’s heart leaped at the sight of it, reminding him of just how much he’d fucking  _ missed _ Barry. Oa had given him plenty of time to figure out just what he wanted to say, and he’d figured telling Barry over his favourite food was the best way to do it. 

“Hey, Hal,” Barry said, nudging the door shut with his foot. 

“Make yourself at home,” Hal said, nodding towards the couch. “Pick whatever you like to eat.”

“I, uh, I actually can’t stay.”

Hal looked up, blinking. Okay, well, that put a spanner in the works, but all wasn’t lost. Duty called, it wasn’t uncommon to get interrupted - they’d been lucky, really, whenever they’d fooled around. Hal remembered more than a few unfortunate calls where Bruce had looked just a little grumpier than usual upon arrival, and Hal was just glad that he’d never had to shove a boner under his Lantern uniform. 

“No problem,” Hal said automatically. And, well, this wasn’t the best timing, but maybe if he blurted it out now, then they could do something together once Barry was free again. “Hey, so, if you’ve got a sec-”

“I have a date,” Barry said, beaming. “I actually got a  _ date, _ Hal. A date with a  _ guy.” _

Hal’s entire world froze. 

He felt his smile fix on his face, and judging by the slight flicker of Barry’s features, he’d noticed. Oh, he’d fucking noticed, alright, and Hal  _ scrambled _ to cover it up, to force himself to lean somewhat casually against the back of the couch as he slid his hands into his pockets. Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck, _ his heart was tearing in two in his chest and he  _ had _ to pretend that he was happy for Barry.

Which, in a way that made him want to laugh bitterly up at the ceiling, he  _ was. _ He was  _ delighted _ for Barry, genuinely. He wanted Barry to be happy, wanted him to full of love with a partner that could always be  _ around _ for him, could always be on Earth.

Hal just wished that it was him.

“Congrats, buddy,” Hal said. He could almost feel the creak of his muscles as he made himself grin. “Really happy for you. When did that happen?”

“A couple of weeks after you went to Oa.” Barry ran his fingers through his hair, laughing somewhat breathlessly. His cheeks were pink, and Hal felt another knife slide into place between his ribs.  _ He’d _ been the one to make Barry blush like that not too long ago. “We ran into each other at the coffee shop down the street from the precinct.”

“Oh?” Hal tilted his head with a curiosity he didn’t feel. “What’s his name?”

Barry’s smile softened, turning sweeter. “Steven. We just… hit it off in the queue, traded numbers, and here we are. I’ll have to introduce you guys sometime.”

“Sounds like it’ll be fun,” Hal said. He didn’t feel the smile on his face; even to him, it seemed too tight, too unnatural. “I’m assuming he doesn’t know about the whole Flash thing yet?”

He felt just a little bit guilty as Barry shifted on his feet. “Not yet,” he admitted. “It’s early days, you know? It feels  _ good, _ though. It’s been nice,  _ really _ nice.”

“I’m glad.” And he was,  _ truly, _ even if his chest was collapsing in on itself. “Don’t let me keep you from your date, Bar. You can tell me about him some other time, go enjoy yourself.”

Barry’s face lit up, and Hal instantly felt awful for the bitterness swirling in his gut. “Thanks. Sorry, I know we wanted to hang out, but we’ll catch up later, I promise!” He was turning away already, the lines of his body fuzzing as he phased through the door. Hal heard the distant sound of his footsteps retreating down the hallway, and then he was gone.

Finally, he let the smile slide from his face. His cheeks hurt as he sunk to the floor and buried his face in his crossed arms. An ache started up behind Hal’s ribs, somewhere right next to his heart, throbbing and pulsing like the raw edges of a wound.

_ Fuck.  _

Usually, he was one of the only heroes who could keep pace with Flash, but this time, Hal was too slow for Barry Allen.

* * *

There was, naturally, only one other person he could turn to. This was the sort of thing he normally bothered Barry with but, well, there was a glaringly obvious problem there, and Hal wasn’t about to rain on his parade. Barry deserved someone as nice as Steven sounded - he hadn’t stopped texting Hal, even though he’d been too busy to see him in person - and Hal was glad that he was one of the few heroes who seemed to have found something good.

It didn’t stop him from being horribly jealous, though.

He slotted himself into a barstool with a sigh, curling his fingers around his beer and hunching over it to wait for Ollie. Days on, and that hole in his chest was still just as painful, so he’d figured a little drinking with his  _ other _ best friend couldn’t hurt.

He was trying to ignore the fact that it was the place they usually frequented as a trio. Their usual table was right there in the corner, tucked away in that nice quiet spot, and Hal could almost hear Barry’s laugh under the hum of sports commentary. It hadn’t felt right to sit over there, not when they weren’t all present. 

The bartender - a woman who was old enough to be his mother and just as kindly and warm - settled down near him for a moment, a sympathetic look on her face. “What’s on your mind, handsome? Haven’t seen your face around here for a while, you or your two friends.”

Hal shrugged as he lifted his beer. “Work’s kept me busy,” he said, which wasn’t technically a lie. She just didn’t know that he’d been out in space for it. “I’ll be out of your way soon, my friend’s on his way.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Just the one?”

“Yep.” Hal set his bottle down again just slightly too hard. “Other one has a date.”

“You don’t like her?”

Hal grimaced. “Nope. He’s fine.  _ Great, _ actually. Good for my friend.”

Both eyebrows jumped up this time. “Mm,” she hummed, nodding in understanding. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart.” She rapped her knuckles on the bar as she straightened up again. “Tell you what, that first drink’s on the house. You need anything, you just give me a shout.”

She left him to it then, and Hal sunk back into his misery. It was a kind enough gesture, but he was feeling a little too sorry for himself to feel it much. That was the whole point of coming here, after all: talk to Ollie, drink the night away, and bury his feelings deep down before he saw Barry next so he could be the supportive friend he was supposed to be. Hal cared, and he didn’t want to lose Barry as a friend just because he kept sinking into a funk anytime his date came up.

A hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him with far too much vigor. “Hal!” Ollie crowed, looping his arm around his shoulders. “Good to have you back.”

Only somewhat reluctantly, Hal wound his arm around Ollie in return for a friendly squeeze. “Good to be back, man. How’re things?”

Ollie dropped into the seat next to him, planting an elbow on the bar so he could face Hal. He felt the way Ollie glanced him up and down, and then he saw the slight tug on his brows as he repeated his quick look; Hal knew he looked as worn out as he felt, and he didn’t really care right then. 

“Good,” Ollie said, frowning openly now, “good, yeah. What about you? You look like shit, man.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.” He decided not to answer Ollie’s actual question, and he took a pull on his beer instead. “What’re you drinking tonight, Ollie? I’ll buy the first one.”

“Same as you,” Ollie said. He folded his arms as Hal flagged down the bartender again to grab Ollie a drink. Hal could feel the way Ollie stared at him, no doubt picking up on every little detail that Hal didn’t realise was there. He’d never been much of a detective when it came to his friends - he was far better at that sort of thing in the field than he was on Earth - but Hal knew exactly what message he was putting out there.

He was miserable, and possibly just a little bit heartbroken.

“Thanks,” Ollie said as Hal slid him his bottle. “Where’s Barry?”

Hal bit the inside of his cheek. “He’s busy tonight. He’s got a date.” It was a lie, but probably not far from the truth in the end. Hal hadn’t actually asked Barry to come out to Star City.

“Huh,” Ollie said, head cocked. “Okay. Alright. Come with me.”

The legs of Ollie’s chair screeched across the wooden floor as he stood. Hal winced. “What’re you doing?”

_ “We,” _ Ollie said, hooking his hand around Hal’s arm, “are going to our usual table, and  _ you _ are going to tell me what is bothering you so much. I’m not sitting here to let you cry into your fucking beer all night. We’re gonna talk about this like adults, and  _ then _ we’re gonna drink.”

It seemed like a reasonable enough idea, Hal supposed, aside from the spilling his guts part. Still, he sunk into the chair Ollie pressed him into - his normal seat, he realised, right next to where Barry would sit - and then he disappeared to return to the bar. Hal squinted at him across the room, half tempted to construct a telescope just to get a better look at what he was doing, only to have that answered for him seconds later. Ollie returned triumphantly with another pair of beers, and as he set them down, he added, “I’ve got food coming, too.”

“I love you,” Hal sighed, draining the last of his drink. He figured he should start on that second before it got too warm, even if it meant that Ollie had to play catchup.

Ollie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, love you, man. Now, what’s up?”

Hal’s stomach sank. He dropped the beer cap to the table with a grimace, watching it skitter across the wood aimlessly. “It’s just love life crap,” he grumbled, looking away. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t- That’s not what I came here to talk about-”

“Shut up,” Ollie said, raising a hand. “Don’t bullshit me, Hal.”

He sighed. “Fine. I was… sort of sleeping with a guy on and off. I came back from Oa, and I found out he’s with someone else now. That’s it.”

Ollie hummed, sounding unconvinced. “That’s not it.”

Hal shot him a glare. “Not what?”

“Not all of it, obviously. You wouldn’t be this pissy if it was just sex.” Ollie leaned back, propping his feet up on the opposite chair -  _ Barry’s _ chair - with a raised eyebrow. “I know you, man. Casual is the  _ very definition _ of your thing, and you never get this hung up over hookups.”

“I said it was on and off,” Hal muttered, picking at the label on his beer. He didn’t quite have the taste for it now, although the bliss of a slight buzz would, admittedly, be wonderful. “It wasn’t just the one time. It was fun and great, and now it’s gone, that’s all.”

He fell silent as the bartender headed over to hand over not just one, but two baskets of fries. She gave Hal a wink as she left again. Somewhat soothed, he reached out for one, biting the end off with a huff. “I swear, Ollie, it’s not that deep. It was just a friends with benefits situation, and it sucks that it’s over. Guess I’ve gotta find someone else to hook up with instead of having a regular thing, no big deal.”

Ollie rubbed at his beard thoughtfully. “No big deal,” he repeated. “Okay, so when you said that Barry couldn’t make it-”

Hal groaned. “Ollie, don’t do this, man.”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” Ollie said. He was smirking, but it softened again a beat later. Hal wasn’t sure which he preferred: Ollie teasing him, or Ollie pitying him. “Does Barry know you like him?”

“No.” Hal scowled down at his hands as he snatched another fry from the basket. God, this was infuriating. He just hadn’t wanted to sit alone in his apartment and drink; at least with Ollie, there was the chance that they’d end up laughing over something in the end once this was over with. He’d kind of hoped that Ollie wouldn’t figure things out this completely, though. “What gave it away?”

Ollie jerked a thumb at Barry’s empty seat. “You’re not normally this miserable when Barry isn’t here. That, plus him having a date... How long were you guys screwing around for?”

Hal shrugged. “Couple of months maybe.” And then, abruptly aware of the fact that Barry wasn’t exactly  _ out, _ he glanced up pleadingly and added, “Seriously, Ollie, I was trying  _ not _ to mention his name for a reason. Keep this between us.”

“I won’t say anything, I promise,” Ollie said kindly. “You, though, you’re obvious to anyone who isn’t Barry. The guy’s smart, but not about shit like that. Dinah and I, we’ve been wondering when you were gonna make a move, Hal.”

_ Fuck. _ Hal raked his fingers through his hair with a groan. “I was so fucking stupid, Ollie. I thought I had an actual  _ chance.” _

“I’m sorry,” Ollie sighed. Apparently, he was out of wise things to say, Hal thought only somewhat bitterly. He watched as Ollie took a measured sip of his drink, pausing only to consider Hal again before he continued. “Seriously, that fucking sucks. Were you actually gonna say anything, or…?”

Hal held up his thumb and forefinger, positioning them a hair’s breadth apart. “I was that close when he dropped the news.”

_ “Shit.” _ Ollie shook his head with a sympathetic frown. “Well, if you’re feeling up to it, I can play wingman for you tonight. We can find you someone to try and forget-”

“Nah.” Hal’s skin crawled uncomfortably just at the idea of it. He couldn’t  _ forget _ Barry, not with the strength of his feelings sitting so solidly in his chest. This was just something he’d have to carry for now, something to work through at his own pace. Ideally, it’d get easier over time, and maybe even fade as Barry inevitably settled down with Steven - because it truly was inevitable; Barry wasn’t the dating around type, and he’d been  _ excited _ about this. Hal’s chance had come and gone, and he wasn’t likely to get another. He knew he needed to make his peace with that.

Ollie shrugged. “Drinks, then?”

“Drinks,” Hal confirmed. He lifted his beer, holding it up in a halfhearted toast. “To being too much of an asshole.”

“To being too much of an asshole,” Ollie agreed.

Their bottles clinked. 

* * *

“It’s just- He’s  _ so _ good, Ollie, so fucking  _ nice,  _ and it’s not  _ fair.” _

Hal was slumped into his armchair, an arm tossed over his face as he groaned. Somehow, he’d flown them back to Coast City - it was easy enough if he toed the line between the clouds and out of the sight of planes - and they’d found themselves at his apartment just to continue the evening. Briefly, Hal had been laughing as Ollie had texted Dinah the plan; she’d been unimpressed by his trip across the country, but willing to let it slide since she got some peace and quiet at home for it. After that, it had been a blur of settling down with whatever drinks Hal had sitting around - a decent amount of beer in the fridge, a few spirits on the shelf - and letting the conversation take them wherever it may.

That was, apparently, right back around to Barry. They’d left that at the bar, but Hal’s thoughts had circled back around again, just like they did when he was sober.

Ollie was sprawled across the couch, one of his legs hooked over the arm while the other dangled towards the floor. “He’s the best of us,” he agreed with a sigh. Then, wrinkling his nose, he added, “Except maybe  _ Clark.” _

Hal waved a hand unsteadily through the air. “Nah, I  _ bet _ Clark has skeletons in his closet.  _ Barry, _ though, I know fucking  _ everything _ and there’s  _ nothing _ there, Ollie, seriously, he’s  _ perfect.” _

It truly was unfair, Hal thought, readjusting to fling himself sideways on his armchair. His head dangled over the edge and his vision swam just a little bit dangerously, but he steadied himself with a long exhale. Barry was the picture perfect guy, the exact kind of guy you’d bring home to meet your parents without thinking twice, and Hal knew he’d never find someone like that ever again, not with the same infinite amount of patience for him specifically. Where even Ollie tended to roll his eyes, Barry still stood there with a fond little smile and a warm laugh.

He was  _ fucked. _ Hal rubbed the bridge of his nose, grimacing. 

“I’m ruined for anyone else,” Hal moaned, dropping his head back again. “Fuck, Ollie, he was so fucking-”

“Don’t tell me anything,” Ollie whined, poking the side of Hal’s head with his socked toe. He ignored it when Hal batted at it. “Not about sex, Jesus, Hal.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Hal slapped at his ankle again, and Ollie finally retreated. Anything to do with the physical side of their relationship felt  _ private; _ Hal had gone over it again and again enough on his own, treasuring those shared experiences just as much as the time spent together. “Fuck off, Ollie, that’s personal.”

Ollie groaned as he shifted, rolling onto his side to seek out his glass of whiskey. “Jesus, now I  _ know _ you’ve got it bad. You  _ never _ turn down the chance to brag about that shit unless it’s serious.”

“He’s just so nice,” Hal complained, pouting at the carpet over his head.

“So I’ve heard,” Ollie snorted.

* * *

Hal’s head  _ ached _ in the morning. He grunted wordlessly into his pillow, choosing to ignore the shafts of light through his blinds in favour of hiding his face in the sheets for just a little bit longer, at least until the room stopped spinning. Food and painkillers would help, but he’d been too far gone to prepare that for himself last night, apparently. 

Eventually, though, there was no ignoring the fact that he had a guest in the apartment in a similar state. Hal grimaced, heaved himself up, and stumbled through to the bathroom. He didn’t emerge until he’d brushed his teeth and grabbed a couple of painkillers - one for him and one for Ollie, who had not made any moves to leave the couch. He was little more than a lump under his borrowed blanket, and he just made an odd groaning noise when he heard Hal wander through into the living room. 

“Here,” he said, setting a glass of water and the pill down on the coffee table for Ollie. 

“Thanks,” Ollie rasped. His hand snaked out from under the blanket, and he propped himself up just enough to take it. Hal rubbed his forehead as Ollie noisily gulped his water, waiting for his own pain relief to kick in. “Fuck, how much did we drink last night?”

“Enough to think flying back to Coast was a good idea,” Hal sighed. “You want anything to eat?”

Ollie turned a delicate shade of green. “Maybe in a little while. Think I’m just gonna wait here for a minute.”

“Suit yourself.” Hal shrugged, shuffling his way into the kitchen. “I make a mean post-hangover breakfast.”

He busied himself with cooking up some bacon and eggs, and slotted a few slices of bread into the toaster while he was at it. It wasn’t much - maybe he’d been exaggerating his skills a little bit - but it was a surefire way to start his day when he couldn’t drag himself out for something better. The top of Ollie’s head appeared over the back of the couch as the smell wafted through the apartment, and Hal snorted to himself and cracked another couple of eggs. 

It was… oddly normal.  _ Reassuringly _ normal. Distantly, he heard the faint sound of the TV, turned down as low as possible as Ollie switched over to the news. Hal craned his neck to peer over at the screen, but there wasn’t anything interesting, no calamities that needed their attention. It was a good thing, really, because Hal wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to fly straight if he tried. The background noise was good, though, and it didn’t make his head throb too much once the painkiller kicked in, which was a relief. It was just  _ normal. _

Just as he was dishing up, there was a yelp from the couch.  _ “Fuck, _ Barry!” Ollie hissed.

Hal’s stomach lurched. Oh, shit.

“Sorry, sorry,” Barry laughed. “I didn’t expect you to be here, too.”

Hal steeled himself, and then he carried the two finished plates through to the living room. Barry was holding up his hands in surrender, looking sheepish as Ollie stared him down. He lowered them as Hal joined them, his gaze hovering on the breakfast in his hands.

Ollie scowled up at Hal as he accepted his food. “Does he always vibrate through your door?”

“Only recently,” Hal snickered. He settled back into his armchair, carefully using his toe to nudge an empty bottle around the corner and out of sight. “Hey, Bar. What’s up?”

Barry was already distracted, though. It didn’t matter that Hal had managed to squirrel away that one bottle, not when there were others scattered across the floor. He took a bite of his food, desperately hoping it would steady his stomach as Barry took in the scene: alcohol, Ollie tucked under a blanket on Hal’s couch, and the same greasy breakfast he’d made for Bary on occasion, too. The evidence was damning.

“Did you guys go out last night?” Barry asked, cautiously.

“Yeah,” Hal said, crunching into his toast.

“What was the occasion?”

Ollie shot Hal a look from across his living room. His eyebrows were raised, and he glanced towards Barry meaningfully. Hal wasn’t sure  _ what, _ exactly, he was trying to convey, but he did know that he hated Ollie in that moment.

“No reason,” Hal said, shrugging a shoulder. “Just felt like it. Figured you were busy, didn’t wanna bother you.”

Barry looked - not  _ hurt, _ but almost  _ confused. _ “I- I mean, yeah, I went out to dinner, but-” He paused, blinking, and glanced back over at Ollie. 

Ollie, who was wearing a very, very curious look indeed.

“You went out to dinner, huh?” 

Barry rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“Anyone special?”

This time, Barry was the one who glanced at Hal. Why was everyone looking to  _ him _ for advice? He was the one who had gone out drinking rather than actually try to  _ process _ his feelings. All Hal could do was shrug helplessly.

“Kind of,” Barry said awkwardly. “Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out today, Hal, but I don’t wanna interrupt anything.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Hal promised. He waved his toast towards the other armchair. “Come hang out, we’re just hungover and hating ourselves. It’s a fun time in here.”

“Looks like it was,” Barry agreed, glancing around the messy floor again. “I can get out of your hair-”

Ollie abruptly sat up. He grimaced, and Hal snorted into his food as Ollie visibly regretted the quick movement. “No, actually, I need to head home. Dinah’s gonna have my ass anyway, I’d better get back.”

Barry tilted his head towards the door. “Need a ride?”

“Ugh, no. Not today.” Ollie shuddered. “I’ll find my way, don’t worry.” 

Hal set his plate on the coffee table. “I’ll walk you out just to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs. Can’t have that on my conscience.” Mostly, it was just so he could talk to Ollie, just to find out what he’d meant by that look. Hal was too damn curious for his own good. Barry gave him another one of those odd looks, but Hal ignored it in favour of steering Ollie out the door as soon as he was ready.

Ollie waited until they were well out of earshot, halfway down the second flight of stairs, until he grabbed Hal’s elbow. “Say something to him.”

_ “What?” _ Hal hissed. “Fuck off, I’m not doing that. He’s  _ seeing _ someone, Ollie, what the fuck-”

“Yeah, well, you can get it off your chest!” Ollie gave his elbow a little shake. Hal shook him off and tried not to thunder down the last of the steps. “Trust me, it’ll work wonders. Even if he says no, you still put it out there, didn’t you? Means you can move on.”

“That sounds like a fucking terrible idea.” Hal held open the front door for Ollie, taking a small amount of pleasure at the way he winced at the sunshine. “He’ll  _ definitely _ hate me.”

Ollie turned on his heel just to stare back at him as he left. “No he won’t, he’s  _ Barry. _ I say go for it, what’ve you got to lose?” 

_ Everything, _ Hal thought. He had literally everything to lose, and he knew it. There was a difference between confessing to Barry when he was single and spilling his feelings when he was dating someone else. 

Hal just gave him the middle finger. It was a good enough goodbye; Ollie laughed as he headed down the street, already on his phone to call for a pickup. Hal shook his head and trudged back upstairs.

* * *

He didn’t, in fact, say anything to Barry. There was no point. Barry was happy and Hal was miserable, and that was just the way of the universe.

Instead, Hal satisfied himself with their usual kind of afternoon, the sort they’d have had before they’d started sleeping together, minus the beer. Barry had already cleaned up the mess by the time Hal made it back upstairs, completely unasked, and then they sat with snacks and video games, and they tangled at the ankles in the tiny space between Hal’s couch and his coffee table. It didn’t mean anything, but Hal still felt a guilty little thrill at the touch.

When Barry left at some point in the afternoon, Hal finally let himself sink into the couch and feel the headache that had been brewing. It was probably the hangover, but having Barry right there, right there on  _ this _ couch…

It had been torture.

* * *

Hal was, in the end, only human. He missed more than those uncomplicated evenings spent in Barry’s company; the sex had been genuinely fun, and when Hal woke up from a nap on his couch with a dream version of their last time playing in his brain, he decided to head to his bedroom to take care of business. It would be the perfect stress relief, he reasoned.

One thing was for sure, though: he was  _ not _ going to think about Barry.

He armed himself with lube and his laptop, loaded up a couple of videos, and settled in to get off. The best way to make sure he stayed on track was to press play as he got comfortable; he kept one eye on the video as he shoved his sweats down to his knees and poured lube onto his palm to warm it up. It didn’t matter that the actors were a little over the top with their sounds, not when the most important part was the action.

And then Hal paused, his hand hovering next to his dick. Actually, he thought, maybe a video with two men wasn’t the best choice right now. He exited the window, switch to something featuring a woman as well as a guy, and  _ then _ he finally took himself in hand, sighing with relief at the first touch of lube.

The video worked well enough, he supposed. It was the typical kind of thing he expected to see, plenty of moaning and grunting over the gratuitous shots, but it just wasn’t holding his attention. He frowned.

Something amateur, then. If his dick wanted something more genuine, he could find it.

Except that didn’t work either. Hal found his hand slowing and his attention drifting, and it was only a sharp gasp from his crackly laptop speakers that drew him back to his bedroom. Frustrated, he clicked out of the window and closed the lid, scooting it towards the other side of the bed as he flopped onto his back. He’d have to do it the old fashioned way, then.

The thing was, that was a little more dangerous right now. The second that Hal closed his eyes, Barry appeared, clipped into a montage of everything they’d done: in his lap as they kissed, his hand on Hal’s dick, his mouth between Barry’s thighs-

Hal grunted, squeezing the base of his dick as a traitorous pulse of arousal thumped through his veins. He’d felt guilty enough about jerking off to thoughts of him before, and he definitely wasn’t going to when Barry was no longer single. He needed something else, something that would completely steal his attention without effort. 

Rolling onto his side, Hal dug his dry hand into his bedside table. Surely using a vibrator would work?

The quiet buzz was wonderfully familiar, loud enough that it was guaranteed to draw his focus. Hal got comfortable on his back again, closed his eyes, and gave himself a few quick strokes just to get himself back to full hardness. There wasn’t much point in bothering with more foreplay, not after such a delayed start, so Hal pressed the tip of the vibrator against the base of his dick, hissing as he lost his grip and it skated against the underside. 

It was easy enough to tease himself with it. Hal had never really needed much on his own, not with his vivid imagination, but he didn’t even use that this time; he focused purely on the sensations, on the slide of his hand and the vibration against his skin. It was more than enough, and he quickly felt his orgasm approaching. 

He never  _ had _ had a chance to tease Barry with this. Hal wondered just how much Barry might have squirmed with someone else controlling the vibrator, what sort of noises he’d have made-

Hal hissed out a quiet groan as he came across his stomach. It wasn’t even that satisfying.

_ Shit. _ He’d been trying not to think about Barry for just half an hour, and he hadn’t even managed  _ that. _

He yanked the vibrator away from himself as oversensitivity quickly set in. As much as Hal liked to sometimes toy with the idea of a little overstimulation, now really wasn’t the time. He switched it off and tossed it to the side with a huff, content to wallow in his self-pity for just a little while rather than get up to clean. It was what he deserved for making the one slip he’d told himself he’d avoid like the plague.

Maybe Ollie had been right. Hal was sure that things wouldn’t have been nearly this bad if he’d had the chance to tell Barry how he felt, even if it  _ had _ been a no. He’d been crushing on Barry for around four fucking years; of course it wasn’t going to go away in a few weeks.

He was truly, utterly fucked. 


	5. Home Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Thanks to everyone for commenting and enjoying this fic; I'm genuinely blown away by how much love it's received. Thank you so much! I have other plans for Halbarry so expect to see more there at some point in the future, and you can always find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner. <3
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers do not interact.

“I’m really sorry, but I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

Steven frowned at him from the other side of the table, and Barry felt a little pang of guilt. They’d been seeing each other for around a month or so, give or take a couple of weeks, and while Barry did genuinely like Steven, there were just some…  _ incompatibilities. _

“Can I ask why?” Steven asked, idly turning his takeout coffee cup around in his hands. 

The noise of the coffee shop filtered away into the background as Barry glanced away. He knew  _ exactly _ why he was calling it quits. He had gone into this conversation prepared, after all, and he  _ did _ have a few reasons on hand just in case this very scenario came up. Now that he was here, though, Barry felt tongue-tied.

_ You’re far too human. _

_ You want to settle down, and that’s something I can’t do.  _

_ I can’t stop thinking about Hal. _

That third one was new and entirely unprecedented. Barry wasn’t entirely sure what it meant just yet, but he didn’t think it was fair to Steven to think of his friend every time he leaned in to kiss his cheek. There were a few similarities - Steven’s eyes were brown as well, but lighter than Hal’s - but he was, of course, his own person. It wasn’t his fault that Barry was, apparently, tangled up over Hal in a way that he hadn’t even realised until he’d started dating Steven instead.

“I think we’re in different places right now,” Barry said carefully, “and we want different things. You want to settle down and have kids, and that’s not something I’m looking to do anytime soon.” He didn’t exactly have his hands full with the younger speedsters these days - it wasn’t like he babysat them or spent every hour chasing after them - but they  _ were _ his family, and he felt a certain degree of responsibility there considering they looked up to him and his work. He just didn’t have the time for something so  _ permanent _ with a civilian, with someone who didn’t  _ understand, _ and it was far too early to consider outing his identity like that.

Steven tilted his head just a little sadly. “I know, you said you want to focus on work,” he sighed, dropping his gaze to his coffee. “I don’t wanna hold you back. I really like you, Barry, but…”

Barry’s heart clenched. “I’m sorry.”

A hand landed on his. Steven squeezed his fingers gently. “It’s okay. It was fun, at least, right?”

Oh, Steven had no idea. Barry had been thrilled to get his number, delighted to start dating him, and he was genuinely sad that he was breaking this off. They had a good thing here, something that Barry had been wanting for a long time, but…

It wasn’t  _ quite _ right. He wasn’t exactly ready to confront what he could feel lingering at the back of his mind, but he would be soon, he knew that much. 

“Yeah,” Barry promised, smiling and tangling their fingers together briefly. “Thank you, Steven. Really.”

“No need to thank me.” Steven brushed his thumb against the side of Barry’s hand before he let go. “I’d like to still be friends, if that’s an option. You don’t have to get rid of my number if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I’d like to be friends.” Barry gestured around the coffee shop with a wry smile. It was the same one they’d met in, when Barry had been in such a rush from work but had found the time for such a suddenly important person. “We’re gonna run into each other enough here anyway.” Besides, Barry made an effort to stay friends with his exes, and Iris was the best proof of that. It had taken time, of course, but he couldn’t bear to not have her in his life somehow. One day, he hoped that Steven would be the same.

Steven exhaled a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I guess we will.” He paused, and Barry felt the awkwardness swell up between them like a balloon. “Well, I’d better get going,” Steven said, scooping up his drink. Barry didn’t try to stop him. “Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah,” Barry said, smiling. “Of course. Take care of yourself.”

Steven squeezed his shoulder. “You, too.”

Barry sunk down in his chair a little as he watched him go, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Alright, so that sucked, but at least he had room to  _ think _ now. 

He buried his face in his hands with a soft groan. This wasn’t supposed to be so complicated. He hadn’t meant for things to go so far with Hal - it had just sort of  _ happened, _ spiralled beyond their combined control until they’d ended up just fooling around together - but in the end, it had all been for practice, hadn’t it? The point had been to let Barry explore without judgement, to let him try things out before he encountered them in the real world.

Except Hal’s apartment  _ had _ been the real world. He’d just been too caught up to realise it until he’d seen the way Hal’s smile had frozen.

Barry couldn’t figure out why, though, and it was  _ killing _ him.

Surely it had been just the loss of regular sex, right? He was pretty sure he was safe in assuming Hal had only been with him when they’d been sleeping together. Hal was a casual kind of guy overall, preferring simple and easy physical relief when he could get it, but if an opportunity for something regular fell into his lap, he usually took it. While Barry  _ had _ seen him have his fair share of actual relationships, he didn’t tend to have the time, which led to him chatting idly about his hookups, the ones he knew he’d never see again. Usually, he kept anything more real much more private. 

_ They _ had been private, Barry realised. Nobody else had known.

But  _ of course _ nobody else had known about their shared sex life. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. Barry hadn’t been some nameless one night stand. Combined with the careful steps he’d made with his sexuality, it wasn’t surprising that Hal had stayed silent.

Barry drained the last of his coffee and pushed away from the table. There was no use in spiralling over  _ that _ part of the problem, not when there was another, much more difficult to explain matter.

He needed to get to the bottom of why he couldn’t stop thinking about Hal. 

Once outside, Barry ducked into the nearest alleyway, and then he started running. His suit formed around him as he picked up speed, and soon enough, he was well on his way to Coast City, leaving Central far behind.

* * *

Barry rocked restlessly on his heels as he knocked at Hal’s door. He was back in civilian clothes - had to be to be up here; he didn’t need anyone noticing that Flash showed up on Hal Jordan’s doorstep most days - and he fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket as he waited. 

Was Hal even on Earth right now? Barry had thought he was still home, but maybe he’d made an emergency trip back to Oa for whatever reason - maybe it was something that was low level enough that he didn’t need to alert the League, but important enough to the Corps to pull him away. It had happened before, sometimes during their evening hangouts, too. It was just part of the job. 

When the silence dragged on, Barry chewed the inside of his cheek as he debated knocking again. Maybe he  _ was _ on Oa after all. It was probably for the best. He didn’t even really know what he was doing-

The door swung open.

Hal was in a hoodie and sweats, and his hair was ruffled like it usually was when he first emerged from bed. Carefully, Barry glanced past him to the clock in Hal’s living room; it was early enough in the day that Hal probably  _ had _ just rolled out of bed. Space tended to play havoc with his body’s rhythms and routines, especially when he didn’t really  _ need _ to sleep while he wore the ring. He felt a little bad for rousing him now, but that faded as Hal smiled at him.

“Hey,” he said, lounging against the doorframe. “I didn’t know you were heading over.”

“Spur of the moment,” Barry said, shrugging a shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’fine. Come on in. You want coffee?”

“Sure.”

Hal shuffled out of the way to let him in, and Barry made a beeline for the couch. He sat in his usual spot, carefully ignoring any memories that tried to rise to the surface; if he was going to figure this out, he wanted to do it  _ without _ any bias,  _ without _ his dick controlling the thread of the conversation. The coffee machine whirred and dripped in the kitchen, and Barry settled back to drink in the familiar surroundings, carefully noting the little thrum of contentment that started up in his chest like a plucked violin string.

“Here,” Hal said, nudging Barry’s shoulder with the handle of his mug. When he blinked and glanced over, he realised it was sitting on a green constructed plate, just so Hal didn’t have to touch the hot ceramic. It was  _ charming. _

Barry grinned at him as he took it. “Thanks.”

The plate disappeared as Hal sunk into the armchair with a sigh. “No problem. So, to what do I owe the pleasure at the asscrack of dawn?”

“It’s eleven, Hal.”

He waved a playfully dismissive hand. “That’s, like, seven in my book.”

_ “I _ get up at seven.”

Hal wrinkled his nose. “Not  _ all _ of the time.”

And, well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Whenever Barry stayed here, he often dozed on the couch until Hal woke up, or sometimes he’d surprise him with breakfast when he eventually rose. Those mornings were always slow and hazy, almost domestic in the way they bumped against each other in the kitchen as they went about their rituals. Something about it snagged in Barry’s chest, catching him like a sly detail whenever he was at full speed; it drew him closer while the rest of the world moved in slow motion, even though he couldn’t quite make sense of it just yet. 

_ “Anyway,” _ Hal said, interrupting Barry’s thoughts and scattering them to the wind, “what’s up?”

Oh. Barry took a desperate sip of his coffee just to give himself a moment to find his footing. It was, of course, perfect. Hal knew exactly how he liked it. “I, uh. I broke it off with Steven.”

Hal choked on his coffee.

“I’m fine,” he hissed, waving Barry off as he leaned forwards to put his mug down, grimacing. “You  _ what?” _

Barry went back to fidgeting with his sleeve. “I broke it off with Steven,” he repeated.

_ “Why?” _ Hal asked - no, demanded. He was staring at Barry like he’d grown a second head. “I thought you liked him.”

“I did,” Barry said, and then, glancing away, he added, “I  _ do. _ I don’t know, it was just… We weren’t in the same place. He’s a civilian, and he wants to settle down and have kids and-”

Hal raised his eyebrows. “You dated Iris for a  _ long _ fucking time, and you guys had a bunch of little speedsters running around.”

Barry shook his head with a wistful little smile. “They’re different. I wouldn’t trade them for the world, but I’m not their  _ dad.” _ It felt like it sometimes, especially with the younger ones, but Barry didn’t want to insert himself into that role if they didn’t want it. It was often complicated enough before they even considered how different timelines played into their family, and he didn’t want to make matters worse by claiming a title that wasn’t meant for him.

“Hm,” Hal grunted, considering Barry with a tilt of his head. There was something hidden there, some emotion he was clearly keeping under lock and key; Hal was rarely a closed book to Barry, but when he was, it was because there was always a degree of vulnerability to it that he just wasn’t ready to share. It was interesting that he could see it in Hal now. 

“Well,” Hal continued, abruptly sitting up, “that fucking sucks, Bar. I’m sorry, man. There’s other fish in the sea, I’m sure you’ll find someone else.”

Barry puffed out a quiet, slightly bitter laugh. “The civilian part is gonna be kind of hard to overcome.”

There was a beat of silence, interrupted only by the scrape of Hal’s mug on the table as he picked it up again. “Yeah, well,” he said, and then paused again, searching for words. “Maybe you’ll find someone else, and it won’t be such a dealbreaker then.”

“I don’t know,” Barry sighed. “Iris was different, she knew what she was getting into. I don’t think I’ll get that lucky again.”

“A superhero then,” Hal said, arching an eyebrow. 

Barry felt that thing tug at his attention again. “Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

Hal fixed him with a sad little look. He had barely enough time to feel a twinge in his chest before Hal got to his feet, only to cross the room and drop himself down on the couch next to Barry. The first knock of their knees was like a bolt of lightning to the chest; Barry hadn’t even noticed the  _ existence _ of that distance until it was gone, neatly cut away the moment he’d mentioned Steven for the first time. Had the loss of his and Hal’s nameless thing really been that significant?

“Well,” Hal said, leaning in to fondly bump their elbows together, “you can always hang out here today if you want. Misery loves company, and you know me, I’m always down to just sit and watch a movie.” He was smiling that winning smile of his, the one that could charm the pants off of anyone that Hal wanted. “Hey, how about this: we’ll order whatever you want to eat - I’ll pay - and we’ll marathon some shitty action movie so you can forget about the whole thing for a while. If we’re lucky, maybe there’ll even be some eye candy.”

That was just - it was so  _ sweet. _ Barry blinked at him, genuinely taken aback by the open kindness. “I- Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

Hal tossed him a selection of menus, and Barry found himself leaning against his side as they laughed over a stupid amount of pizza. He was a pillar of warmth against Barry’s side - not as hot as him, of course, but warm enough that Barry sought him out, melting with his arm against Hal’s. It was a familiar spot, a well treasured one.

It was between films that that snag Barry had felt earlier turned into a tear.

He settled back into the cushions as Hal got up to grab them a couple of sodas, propping his cheek up on a hand as he listened to Hal fondly chat away. There was something about Barry’s job in there, the fact that Hal remembered that Barry was getting busy there, and if he ever wanted to crash and take his mind off things then he was always welcome at Hal’s place, no questions asked, and hey, maybe they could do this all day thing again sometime-

Barry just beamed at Hal as he came back. “I’d like that,” he admitted. “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind me just showing up?”

“It’s not like I’m out partying every night,” Hal said, rolling his eyes. He sprawled across the couch, draping his legs across Barry’s shins. “Bar, I love having you around.”

“Well, I love  _ being _ around,” Barry replied, wiggling his knee under Hal’s calf playfully. Hal’s place was like a second home, somewhere comfortable when Central was just too much. It was familiar and cosy, much more relaxed than the whirlwind that was his family back home, and that was just one of the many things that he loved about Hal-

Oh, shit. He loved Hal.

Barry damn near choked on his bite of pizza. The only reason he escaped Hal’s notice was because he had taken a second to glance at his phone, and that was just fine with Barry, because he’d really like to die in peace right about now. 

This one little fact made everything else make entirely too much sense. The sex had nothing to do with why he couldn’t keep Hal off of his mind; no, it was actually something much simpler than that, something that Barry realised now had been true all along. He just hadn’t  _ seen _ it before. He’d been too wrapped up in their friendship, in the fun they had together -  _ including _ the sex, and oh,  _ God, _ they’d already had sex - to notice that he’d fallen so hard for Hal.

The day seemed to progress in fits and starts from then, with time speeding up and then halting beyond Barry’s control. One minute they were recovering from their giant lunch, and the next they were discussing dinner, and Hal was teasing Barry fondly about how much he could put away. He ruffled Barry’s hair as he stood up to find a pen and paper to write down their order, and then hours melted away with the press of Hal’s calf against his own, and finally the minutes ticked past the way he ruffled Barry’s hair on his way to bed. 

Barry flopped back on the couch under his borrowed blanket. It smelled like Hal.

He didn’t sleep a wink.

* * *

Barry usually liked addressing things like this as soon as they came up, but this time, he did what he did best: he ran.

He ran home in the morning after a too domestic breakfast that they had cooked together. He ran all the way back to Central City, phased right through his front door, and dropped down onto his couch to bury his face in his hands. 

God, he’d left Hal with the  _ dishes. _ It was nothing, really, in the grand scheme of things, but Barry still felt bad for it.

He couldn’t believe how blind he’d been. Now that he looked back over their interactions over the past couple of months, there was a new, rose-tinted edge to everything, and that lens brought everything into sharper focus. The sex had been amazing, but it had been about more than just skill; they had had  _ fun, _ like it had simply been an extension of their normal pastimes. It hadn’t felt like anything particularly groundbreaking. It had just been  _ them. _

They had also always been relatively tactile with each other, and now that Barry peeled back the layers of his memories, he noticed that that had only increased with his  _ ‘practice’, _ and, more importantly, he’d enjoyed  _ every _ moment of it. Touching Hal was like coming home.

Barry groaned into his hands. Truly, he had screwed everything up here. He knew he owed Hal an apology and an explanation, but he didn’t even know where to start.

* * *

First of all, he needed to clear his head.

Running had always been good for that, even before the lightning strike. There was nothing quite like stretching his legs and just letting the speed take him, allowing time to slow down around him when the world seemed like it was going too fast. It gave him a breather, let him think when he didn’t feel like he had the room to do even that.

Now, though, racing alongside another speedster was special. There was a certain tranquility in it, a specific kind of calm that came with sharing the same space that was  _ just _ outside the boundaries of time. 

Wally met him halfway between Central and Keystone, and they fell into step together as easily as they breathed. For once, Wally didn’t push himself to his limit, and instead he settled in next to Barry while somehow still acting like the speeding bullet to Barry’s graceful arrow. It was hard to be jealous of the fact that Wally was just a touch faster than him when he was so relaxed and easygoing all of the time.

“Hey,” he said, waving. His words were almost whipped away by the wind, but if Barry focused, that slowed too, and he could hear Wally much easier. “What’s up?”

“Felt like taking a jog,” Barry replied as they loped along at an easy pace. To them, this was almost a walk in the park, but they were almost around the first grand curve of Keystone now, and it wouldn’t be long until they were circling back towards Central. “Figured you might like to join me.”

Wally gave him a lopsided grin. “You know me, I’ll take any opportunity to run.”

Barry laughed. The tight weight of that guilt in his chest loosened somewhat, drifting away on the breeze they stirred up behind them. God, it was a miracle how much just a little time to clear his head helped. 

“How are you?” Barry asked, casual and conversational as Central loomed on the horizon. “How’re the Titans?”

“Good,” Wally called back. “I was about to head back and touch base, actually. You caught me just before I left to meet everyone.”

Barry raised his eyebrows. “Everyone?”

“Yep. It’s a whole team thing. We’re gonna go stupid on Doritos and soda.”

It was a time honoured tradition among the Titans, Barry knew that much. He could imagine just what kind of party a group of humans and metas could throw - he’d been to the Justice League ones, after all - but he imagined that the Titans ones were closer to the traditional kind than the League’s calmer, chattier sort. Barry liked to consider the other League members his friends, but he knew that the Titans had a different kind of bond, a much tighter one that was somewhat unique to Wally and the others.

Barry puffed out a laugh. “Fair enough.”

“What about you?” Wally sped up just enough to glance back at Barry, his eyebrows raised. “Got any fun plans for the weekend?”

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, reminding him of the way it lurched if he dared to set foot on a rollercoaster. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He wanted to see Hal, but he wasn’t sure if he could exactly keep things casual if he tried. 

He felt more than saw Wally begin to slow down; it was a slight shift in the speedforce, something that prickled at his muscles and urged him to follow. They were past Central by now - closer to Keystone again, really - and Wally stopped at the side of the main road between the two sister cities. Cars raced past them, occasionally honking their delight at the sight of two speedsters standing at the edge of a grassy spot for a chat; automatically, they raised their hands to wave, but otherwise gave no indication that it had happened.

Wally cocked his head at Barry, curious. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Barry shrugged. “I don’t know,” he repeated simply. “I was thinking about heading over to see Hal if Central doesn’t need me, but I don’t know if he’ll be around.” That was a lie, of course. Barry knew that Hal was around. He’d said as much himself.

There was, he realised now, safety in coming out with Wally. He wasn’t the kind of person to pry when someone was clearly keeping something bottled up; he liked to give a person their space whether they asked for it verbally or not, preferring to step much more cautiously around the edges of such a serious conversation than dive right in. It was a sweet counterpoint to his playful nature, one that was a stark reminder of how quietly  _ smart _ Wally was even when he acted like a joker. 

And yet, Barry still got the distinct impression that he was under the microscope right now. He was well aware that Wally knew all about his habit of running when he needed to breathe; he’d been the one who’d shown Wally the benefits of it years ago, back in his days as Kid Flash. Barry had always seen the merit in being open with his family, but this… this was too personal. 

“You okay?” Wally asked, eyebrows raised. 

Barry knew his smile was strained, but Wally didn’t call him out on it. “I’m okay. It’s just work and personal life, you know how it is.”

“Both jobs?”

“Both jobs.”

Wally puffed out a quiet laugh. “Well, if you need another jog, you know where to find me. I’ll always come running.”

Barry clapped him on the shoulder fondly. “Thanks, Wally. Same goes to you.”

There was a sweet moment when Wally’s smile was sincere and warm, and then it turned playful and sharp. “You can call me anytime _ except _ for this weekend,” Wally reminded him, grinning. “I’m gonna be  _ drowning _ in sugar by tonight.”

“What, you don’t wanna burn it off again with a run?” Barry teased. 

“Nope, it’s sleepover rules. We’re staying up all night like we’re fifteen and unsupervised all over again.”

Barry shook his head with a smile, and Wally tipped his head back with the force of his laughter. 

Maybe this hadn’t exactly solved his problem, but as he waved goodbye, he felt  _ infinitely _ better for this little outing. There was still a nervous, uncertain buzz in his chest, an itchy little thing that demanded his attention, but now that his head was clear, he knew it’d be easier to lay everything on the table and properly examine it.

* * *

Really, though, how  _ did _ one ask Hal Jordan on a date?

Barry skimmed his fingers across his forehead thoughtfully for the millionth time, and he sighed as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window; while he usually kept his hair neat, the front was now stuck up at all angles from his fidgeting, spiked up and away like it was after hours of running around as Flash. Instead of being a superhero, though, he felt like he was pretty solidly at the other end of the spectrum as he crumpled up another bit of paper covered in scribbled out notes.

He knew that he was probably thinking about this too hard. Hal appreciated straightforwardness, even though he claimed he hated serious conversations.

Maybe that was it then. Maybe that was the key. Just… knock on his door, ask to come in, talk. Barry dropped his chin in his palm and stared out at the streets beyond his window, frowning as streetlights started to flick on. He hadn’t realised how dark it had gotten already.

It hadn’t been this difficult with Steven or Iris, but then again, they’d been the ones to initiate. All Barry had had to do was say yes. He hadn’t even made the first move with his high school girlfriends.

Barry flipped the notepad closed with a sigh. Straightforward it was, then. That didn’t mean he couldn’t put a bit of a spin on it.

* * *

It was just past midday when Barry showed up on Hal’s doorstep. He tucked a small bouquet of roses behind his back to keep it out of sight - it had been a spur of the moment purchase, one that had now left Barry feeling more than a little flustered - and reached up with his free hand to knock. 

He hadn’t exactly rehearsed this, but he  _ had _ thought this through.

“Coming!” Hal called distantly. Barry’s heart skipped into working overtime. 

A nervous thought speared him right through the heart, just as he heard Hal shuffling over to his front door: what if Hal didn’t feel the same? He’d been happy to fool around, more than fine with just having sex and showing Barry the basics, but what if that didn’t extend to an actual relationship? He hadn’t shown any hints of wanting that; there had been the slight start when Barry had announced his brief relationship with Steven, but surely that had just been about losing their regular little thing, right?

There wasn’t time to back out. Hal opened the door, and he blinked at Barry, looking somewhat surprised to see him standing there. He was still in the soft t-shirt he’d slept in; Barry recognised it from all the times he’d stayed over. “You know you can just let yourself in, right, Bar?”

He sucked in a quick, steadying breath. “I’m learning about important dates in history,” Barry said, deliberately ignoring Hal’s question. “Do you want to be one of them?”

For a moment, Hal looked so abruptly  _ tired. _ Barry watched it pass over his face, tugging down on his brows and the corners of his mouth, and then it was gone again, hidden behind a fake laugh. “Okay,” Hal sighed, “you wanna practice again. Okay. Barry, I-”

“It’s not practice!” Barry blurted out. 

Hal snapped his mouth shut.

Flushing now, Barry revealed the roses. His heart was thrashing against his ribs, pounding hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark, and it only sped up the longer Hal stayed silent. He watched as he glanced from Barry’s face to the flowers and back again, his eyebrows steadily rising.

“It’s- it’s not practice,” Barry repeated, shifting on his feet. Oh, God, maybe he  _ should _ have rehearsed this after all. “I’m ready for the real thing, Hal.”

“Bar,” Hal said very, very quietly. There was the faintest flicker of hope in his eyes, something that he was clearly trying to hold onto, and it was only then that Barry grasped just how badly, how  _ entirely _ he had fucked up. Hal had liked him  _ the whole time, _ and Barry had tossed him aside without a second thought. 

He hadn’t even  _ said _ anything to Hal before accepting Steven’s date. Christ.

“I care about you,” Barry continued, tripping over himself now to explain. “I care about you  _ a lot, _ Hal, and I-” He stopped, swallowed, and then continued. “I didn’t realise until now. If you’re not too upset with what I did, can I come in?”

Hal frowned. “Pissed with what you did?” he asked.  _ “What _ do you mean-  _ Yes, _ you can come in, get in here, Bar.” 

His fingers circled around Barry’s wrist, and he tugged him in far enough to close the door. Barry kept the roses upright and, somewhat accidentally, between them in the confined space of Hal’s hallway, but Hal didn’t let go of him. It was a small victory, one that made Barry’s pulse race all over again. It didn’t matter that they’d done so much more already; that small act was precious.

Gently, he tapped the roses against Hal’s chest. “These are for you.”

A fond smile stole across Hal’s face. “You know, I kind of figured they were with the reveal and everything.” He took them, his fingers brushing against Barry’s before he moved away. “I don’t even know if I have a vase for them, but I’ll find something.”

Barry trailed after him, following him into the kitchen like a puppy. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure what else to do with himself. Hal hadn’t exactly said anything to his confession yet, and Barry was damn near buzzing with the desire to find out what his answer was. It had to be positive if he’d accepted the flowers, right? Hal wouldn’t have looked so hopeful, wouldn’t have invited him in like this if it was a no. He glanced back at Barry as he opened the first cupboard, and he seemed pleased to see him hovering so closely nearby.

“So,” Barry said hesitantly, “you’re… you’re not mad it took me this long to figure it out?”

“It’s not like I said anything either,” Hal replied, peering into another cabinet. Just that confirmation of Hal’s feelings was enough to make Barry feel like he was flying. Hal made a triumphant noise, and he pulled a tall pint glass down from a shelf. He stuck it under the tap to fill it with water as he continued. “I  _ deliberately _ didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to freak you out, and then you were dating Steven anyway. I wasn’t gonna come between you two.”

He abruptly hated the distance between them, so Barry scooted closer just as Hal tucked the roses into his makeshift vase. He didn’t quite bridge the gap between them - he was still waiting on Hal, waiting for something that was solid - but when Hal turned, he  _ did _ reach out. His fingers tangled with Barry’s, sure and certain, but when Barry met his gaze, Hal just looked  _ hesitant. _ “I didn’t… You were so happy,” he said, thumbing the side of Barry’s hand. “And yeah, I wanted to say something, but I missed my chance and I made my peace with that.”

“Hal,” Barry murmured, squeezing his fingers. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, if anything at all, or if he’d just wanted to say his name.

Hal’s smile was bittersweet. There was a note of something else there, too -  _ resignation, _ Barry realised with a pang. “You’re sure this is what you want, Bar? I’m not always  _ here, _ I’m loud and an asshole and-”

Nope, none of that. Barry wasn’t about to sit there and let Hal sink into that little hole, so he did the one thing he could think of to shut him up.

He kissed his cheek.

It worked. Hal went silent, lips still parted on words he hadn’t said. When Barry withdrew, he almost laughed at the expression on his face; his eyebrows were raised, his eyes wide, and there was, surprisingly, a hint of pink on Hal’s cheeks.  _ He’d _ done that,  _ he’d _ made Hal blush. It wasn’t the first time, not if he included the times they’d fooled around before, but this was  _ different. _

“Okay,” Hal said, beginning to smile now, “point taken.”

“Good,” Barry said, grinning at him. “Because you  _ are _ what I want, Hal. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And no,” he added, cutting Hal off when a cheeky smirk appeared on his mouth, “it wasn’t  _ just _ the sex.”

Hal gave him a considering little look. “But the sex  _ was _ part of it?”

“It was on my mind,” Barry admitted grudgingly, but he couldn’t stay playfully annoyed, not when Hal beamed at him. “Alright, so sue me. You were really good, and I hadn’t gotten any since our last time.”

At some point, Hal’s other hand had wandered to Barry’s side, easing him in closer. Stepping into Hal’s space felt as natural as breathing; here, Barry could feel the gentle buzz of anticipation radiating off of Hal that he hadn’t quite noticed before, like he was barely holding himself back. His quietly restrained joy was infectious, obvious in the slight fond tilt of his smile. God, Barry had no idea how he’d been so oblivious before.

“So,” Hal said, cocking his head with a toothy little grin, “does this mean we’re dating now?”

“I thought the roses were a dead giveaway,” Barry replied, rolling his eyes, “but okay. Hal, I would really like to take you out to dinner sometime.”

Hal’s arms circled around him now, looping around his waist like they belonged there - which, Barry now knew, they did. “Can we start with takeout and kissing on the couch?” he asked. “I’m not exactly dressed for going out today.”

Barry pretended to consider it for a moment. “As long as you kiss me now, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Deal,” Hal said a little more breathlessly than Barry had expected, and then he leaned in to press his lips against Barry’s, and he promptly stopped thinking about anything else.

* * *

Dating Hal, it turned out, didn’t really change much at all. They still visited each other most nights, except now they shared a bed at the end of the evening. Everything felt natural and easy with Hal, from the gentle transition into partners to the sex. It hadn’t taken them long to ramp back up to that point - that very first night, in fact - but it felt  _ so _ much better with the knowledge that they didn’t have to separate after.

Now, when Hal returned from Oa, Barry got to welcome him home very enthusiastically indeed. It sucked to be apart now, more than it had when they had been just friends, but there was always work to keep Barry busy, and in the end, it just meant that he had more free time when Hal did eventually make it home. 

And, of course, he could then have evenings like  _ this. _

Hal had been there already when Barry came home from work, grinning at him from his spot on the couch. He had crashed into Hal immediately, speeding over to drop himself in his lap and kiss him, and things had easily escalated from there. These days, the main difference was that they tended to move to the bedroom, thrilled to do so now that it didn’t feel so forbidden, and Barry took far too much pleasure in sinking back into the pillows beside Hal afterwards to catch his breath.

He stretched and sighed with quiet delight, his eyes drifting shut as he rolled over to pillow his cheek on Hal’s chest. Here, he could hear his heartbeat, thudding away steadily. He knew full well that Hal had made it home unscathed, but it was still reassuring.

“You know,” Hal said teasingly, his voice rumbling under Barry’s cheek, “I could get used to coming home to that.”

“I missed you,” Barry said simply, smiling into his chest.  _ God, _ it felt so good to admit it out loud. He’d felt it before, of course, felt the relief that came with knowing that Hal was safe and whole, but it didn’t compare to dragging him into bed to make  _ sure _ of it, to kiss every inch of him and  _ show _ him how much he’d missed him. 

Hal’s lips pressed against the top of his head. “I missed you, too,” he murmured, and that was another thing that had been delightful to see. He’d always known that Hal could be sweet and soft in the right circumstances; he just never chose to project that side of himself to the world, choosing instead to save it for moments like this. It made Barry’s heart skip a beat every time he caught that little smile that was just for him, even though their relationship was still so new, really. It felt like it had been  _ years _ already thanks to their existing friendship, but in reality, it had only been a few weeks.

Unable to help himself, Barry pulled himself up to kiss Hal. He met him halfway, a lazy smile already on his face as Barry dipped down. It was warm and sweet and everything he’d already come to expect from Hal, perfect in its familiarity. A hand settled on his back, resting in the dip of his spine. They were both too tired and spent for another round right now, but Barry  _ did _ briefly entertain the idea.

When they parted, Barry stayed propped up on his elbow, his head tilted to one side as he considered Hal. Some of his hair had drooped across his forehead charmingly, so Barry reached up to swipe it away. Warmth flooded Hal’s expression, softening his features as he leaned into Barry’s touch.

“You know,” Barry said, dropping his hand to Hal’s chest, “I’d be open to doing more.”

A frown creased the gap between Hal’s eyebrows. “More?”

“You know.” Barry felt the prickle of a blush on his cheeks. It was stupid considering he’d literally had Hal’s dick in his mouth only fifteen minutes ago, but verbalising his thoughts - putting words to exactly what had kept his imagination busy while Hal was off Earth - was embarrassing even though they were together. “Sex.” When Hal raised an eyebrow, Barry huffed and said, “Anal.”

“Ah.” Hal puffed out a quiet little laugh. “I was waiting on a cue from you. Also it’s not exactly something you do  _ spontaneously, _ so-”

“I know.”

Barry bit back a laugh as Hal stopped in his tracks. He could hear the cogs turning in his head, could see it in the way his gaze flickered across Barry’s face as if he could read exactly  _ how _ he knew just by looking at him. 

“What-” Hal stopped, clearly confused, and then started again. “I thought you said you didn’t do anything with Steven?”

“I didn’t,” Barry said, nodding agreeably. “I did with Iris, though.”

“You,  _ what?” _ A grin spread across Hal’s face. “Barry, you literally  _ never _ stop surprising me. How did that happen?”

Chuckling now, Barry settled back into the circle of Hal’s arms, only to find that Hal had decided to hold himself up on an elbow instead. “We were both curious,” Barry said, shrugging a shoulder lazily. “We did some research, tried some fingers. That turned out to be fun, so, uh.” Barry paused there, choosing to look up at the ceiling instead of Hal’s teasing smirk. “She pegged me a couple times. It wasn’t big or very long, but…”

“Barry, you really need to stop just saying surprisingly hot stuff.” Hal set his chin on Barry’s chest, gazing up at him through his eyelashes. “So are you set on just receiving, or did you want to try it from the other side, too? No harm in preferring one over the other, I’m game for anything, although...” He trailed off with a smirk, deliberately glancing down. “I’d definitely like to try riding you at some point.”

He felt a furious blush rise to his face, but he decided not to comment on it; instead, he just shrugged again. “I’m fine with either,” Barry admitted. When he’d pictured it, he and Hal had often changed positions in his imagination, switching depending on whatever his fantasy focused on at the time. “I mean, I’d like to try bottoming first, but I’m not picky otherwise.”

Hal whined. “Barry, please, I can’t get hard again that fast. You’re too hot.”

The conversation and the thought of it was more than enough to make Barry consider another round again, but he didn’t quite let it slip yet that his refractory period was  _ considerably _ shorter. It hadn’t come up so far, and he was too far into their sex life to just… say it out loud now. It was certainly a unique situation, Barry thought; the speed had had side effects other than his metabolism.

He didn’t mention it yet. He wanted to pick the right moment.

Instead, he ran his fingers through Hal’s hair, pushing it back from his face fondly. “My bad,” he said, though even to his own ears Barry thought he didn’t sound very sorry. His grin kind of ruined the effect, he supposed.

Hal however, looked determined. He crawled his way back up Barry’s body, settling himself between Barry’s thighs when he parted them to give Hal space. “Don’t apologise,” he murmured, dipping down to brush his lips against Barry’s. “S’hot. Give me, like, ten minutes and I’ll be ready to go again.”

Barry hummed an amused little noise into the kiss that followed, and by the time Hal  _ was _ hard again - Barry had a feeling it was closer to seven minutes than ten in the end - he was already raring to go. If just  _ talking _ about sex got Hal this riled up, then Barry couldn’t wait to see what he was like when they actually got there. 

* * *

In the end, Barry planned out the evening. 

He’d waited until he and Hal had something of a date night picked out in advance, and he’d made sure to take a nice,  _ thorough _ shower that morning. He made dinner, deliberately picking out something light - lemon and thyme chicken with some roasted vegetables - just so they wouldn’t be too discouraged by their dinner if the mood to do anything struck them. Hell, Barry made sure to even wear a nice shirt rather than the baggy t-shirt he’d woken up in, even though he knew full well by now that Hal would have him regardless of what he wore.

Still, the effort had its intended effect. Hal enthusiastically worked his way through dinner, and then, after a movie to digest, he just as eagerly peeled Barry’s shirt off between kisses. It ended up on the floor somewhere between his living room and the bedroom, abandoned and forgotten as Barry pulled Hal through his bedroom door.

They landed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, half undressed and giggling when they had to concentrate to wiggle Hal’s jeans down his hips. Barry was only satisfied once they were both naked, at which point he dragged Hal up onto the bed properly, just so he could melt into the pillows and skim his palms across all of the bare skin on display. He really hadn’t spent enough time worshipping Hal, he thought, palming his biceps appreciatively; he was devastatingly handsome when he was clothed, and absolutely mouthwatering when he wasn’t, so Barry made a note to come back to this when he  _ didn’t _ already have plans.

Their hips slotted together, and Hal sighed pleasantly at the first easy roll. His lips trailed up Barry’s jaw, kissing his way along it to nip at the sharp corner of it, just to make Barry gasp. 

“What do you want?” Hal murmured, his voice a pleasantly low rumble against the shell of Barry’s ear. He shivered at the sound of it.

“Well,” Barry said, humming and wriggling under Hal’s touch as he started kissing his neck, “I had something in mind.”

“Yeah?” Hal ground down against him again, and for a moment, Barry was too distracted to think. Damn it, Hal wasn’t making it easy to stay on track. “I’m all ears, Bar.”

He sucked in a quick breath, forcing his own hands to still on Hal’s sides. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, nosing in against the corner of his jaw. Hal froze against him, but judging by the soft noise he muffled against Barry’s neck, it was a good reaction. Blushing, Barry added, “I, uh,  _ showered _ and everything already. I’m good to go.”

Hal finally moved again, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. “Did you prep without me?” he asked. His gaze kept shifting as he spoke, lingering on Barry’s lips for a beat before skittering away again, drinking him in. “Because, holy shit, Barry, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about fingering you.”

Barry shook his head. “I wanted to wait for you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hal murmured, leaning in just to brush their lips together for just a second. “You’re, like,  _ stupidly _ hot. It’s not fair. Where’s the lube?”

Squirming out from underneath Hal, Barry dug it out of his bedside table. Hal’s hands lingered on Barry’s hips, trailing teasingly across his bare skin; Barry landed on his back again with an arched eyebrow, and Hal grinned at him shamelessly. “What? You’re hot.” He took the bottle of lube, and then paused as he flicked the cap open. “No condom?”

Barry shifted on the bed, settling his legs on either side of Hal’s hips just so he didn’t have to think about how much his cheeks burned. “Well, I’m clean. The last person I did anything with was you anyway, and I got tested before that, so…”

Hal licked his lips. “I- Yeah, okay. No condom, then.”

“It’d be a little late to worry about safety,” Barry reminded him, amused. “We’ve already had sex how many times since getting together officially?”

“Excuse me for trying to be polite,” Hal said, rolling his eyes. He flicked Barry’s knee, just to make him spread his legs a little more. “It’s great for cleanup too, you know. It’s not just about STDs.”

“We’re exclusive, and my bathroom is  _ right there. _ I don’t mind.”

Hal shot him a grin. “Ask yourself again after. And hey, pass me a pillow. It’ll be more comfortable with something under your hips.”

Barry lifted up so Hal could tuck one underneath, and then he finally settled in. His breath caught at the quiet sound of Hal slicking up his fingers. “Can you do anything without being effortlessly hot?” Barry asked, faintly pained. 

“Nope,” Hal replied, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “You’re dating me for a reason, Bar, and I know it’s not my smarts.”

“I’m dating you for  _ many _ reasons,” Barry reminded him, just to make Hal shoot him a fond little look. 

He relaxed then, sinking into the pillows behind his shoulders as Hal smoothed a hand up his inner thigh. The muscle there jumped, ticklish, and Hal laughed quietly as he leaned down to brush his lips along the sharp line of Barry’s hipbone. It was an easy distraction as he carefully pressed a finger into Barry; he sucked in a quick breath and closed his eyes, rocking with Hal through the first few gentle thrusts. The sensation was familiar, expected, even if it had been a while.

But,  _ God, _ it felt good. Barry exhaled slowly, riding out the slow waves of pleasure. One thing was for sure, he was ruined for doing this by himself; Hal made it seem effortless, like he didn’t even have to think twice about what he was doing, and it gave him far too much space to tease Barry with the fleeting pressure of his mouth against his skin. Barry knew just what he was capable of with that mouth, and the thought made him shudder and rock down on Hal’s finger.

“You okay?” Hal murmured. His words buzzed against Barry’s skin where his lips pressed them into the flat expanse of his abdomen.

Barry nodded, sharp and jerky. “Yeah,” he sighed, “I can take more.”

Hal was silent for a beat; Barry could imagine his raised eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Hal,” he huffed.

“Okay, okay.” Hal pecked his hip, and then withdrew his fingers to press the tips of two against Barry. He hissed slightly as Hal eased them both in, slowing at the first noise to slip out from between Barry’s teeth. “You want me to stop?”

The stretch was  _ different _ when someone else was doing it - not in a bad way, exactly, but it was just  _ so much. _ Barry shook his head desperately and shifted to press against Hal’s hand; he kept brushing past a bright spot of pleasure, and Barry  _ ached _ for more. “Keep going,” he pleaded, fisting his hands in the sheets.  _ “Fuck, _ keep going, Hal.”

Hal’s breath puffed out against his skin, shaky and wanting. “Okay.” 

It was easy to settle into the pace Hal set. Barry could almost forget that there was an end result that he wanted, another step to this plan, when Hal kept glancing past his prostate so frequently that Barry was starting to think it was deliberate. Still, it helped him relax around his fingers, and when Hal twisted his wrist, curved his fingers a little, Barry sucked in a sharp, noisy breath. He’d never been able to quite hit that angle on his own, but  _ Hal- _

“Oh, God,” Barry gasped, grasping at Hal’s shoulder. 

He felt the curve of Hal’s smile against his hip. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Barry panted,  _ “yeah, _ it’s good.”

From there, it wasn’t long until Hal introduced a third finger. Barry found himself somewhere between begging and pleading, and Hal cursed against his inner thigh. He forced himself to be patient as Hal slowed again to give him time to get used to it, and he  _ did _ appreciate it, even if was desperate to move things along. Hal seemed comfortable between his knees, but Barry missed having him higher up; he wanted to kiss him, touch more than just his shoulders and jaw and hair. Those thoughts scattered and reformed with every crook of Hal’s fingers, every brush of his lips  _ right _ next to his dick. 

_ “Hal.” _ Barry threaded his fingers into his hair, tugging just a little bit. “Come on, please. I’m gonna come before you even get in me if you keep this up.”

“Mm, hot,” Hal hummed, smacking a kiss on a spot right next to his dick. Barry almost opened his mouth to say- to say something, he didn’t know what, but then Hal pulled out and grabbed a couple of tissues from the bedside table to wipe his fingers, and Barry’s heart skipped into overdrive. While his back was turned, Barry cheated and used a little speed to snatch the abandoned bottle of lube.

When Hal scooted closer, his knees bumping Barry’s legs further apart, he welcomed him in with a long, slow kiss. Hal  _ melted _ against him, and Barry swallowed down the soft noise he made when he reached down to take Hal in hand; he shivered at the slick slide of skin on skin, and he kissed Barry harder, a hint of teeth catching against his lips. Sure, Hal could’ve done this himself, but Barry had spent a good while not being able to touch him much, and he  _ craved _ it.

“Tease,” Hal muttered, nipping at Barry’s lip.

“Not a tease if it’s useful,” Barry replied, grinning.

Hal propped himself up on one hand, arching an eyebrow at him with a sly smile. “You’re getting too confident,” he said, gently knocking Barry’s hand away so he could guide himself between his spread legs. “What happened to the Barry Allen who shyly asked me if he could practice kissing?”

“You started dating him,” Barry chuckled. The sound died in his throat a second later, turning into more of a strangled gulp as Hal pressed forwards. 

It was  _ definitely _ different to what he’d experienced before. For one, skin felt different to silicone, and then there was the way  _ Hal _ reacted; his fingers curled around Barry’s hip, holding on tight but not  _ too _ tightly, and he exhaled hard as he slowly eased into him. Barry scrabbled for purchase on Hal’s forearms, his shoulders, and ended up tugging Hal down for a clumsy kiss again, muffling his quiet noises in the best way he knew how. It was a long moment before Hal bottomed out, and when he did, he stayed there, his hips pressed against Barry’s as they caught their breath.

“Holy shit,” Hal breathed. He sounded almost  _ reverent, _ Barry realised.

“Holy shit,” Barry agreed. He bit the inside of his cheek, and squeezed his thighs around Hal just to hear his breathing stutter. His hips twitched, just a little.  _ “Hal, _ holy shit-”

Hal buried his face in Barry’s neck with a very, very soft whine. “Sorry, trying to stay still, Bar, I-”

Barry hooked his leg around the back of Hal’s knee, shaking his head. “You can move,” he whispered in a rush, “please, please move-”

He  _ felt _ more than heard Hal’s groan as it rumbled against his throat. Slowly, he rolled against Barry, grinding into him without an inch of space between them, and Barry saw  _ stars. _ They fizzed across his closed eyelids as he whimpered Hal’s name, popping and bursting like fireworks, and the cycle began anew when Hal shifted again, stronger this time. His head dropped back against the pillows, which really only helped things, because it gave Hal plenty of room to nip and kiss at the exposed skin of his neck.

One day, Barry decided, he was going to ask Hal how he had the coordination to do that while he built up an easy, steady rhythm - not too fast, but not too slow either. Right now, though, he was only conscious of the way sounds tripped off of his tongue without his permission with each rock of Hal’s hips. 

Hal did a neat little figure-eight the next time he pressed flush against Barry, lingering there just to grind against him hard. Barry’s toes curled in the air as his breath caught, and Hal chuckled against his throat.

“How are you so-” Barry paused again, his fingers flexing against Hal’s biceps. “How are you able to  _ think _ right now?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m losing my mind,” Hal said, laughing a little more openly now. He cut himself off with another sharp thrust; the noise he made burrowed into Barry’s brain, making a home there to haunt his every waking moment. “Just trying to make it good for you.”

“It’s already good,” Barry assured him, and when he rocked up to meet Hal’s next grind, they sighed into the same space, foreheads pressed together.

It really  _ was _ amazing; it wasn’t just an empty platitude to reassure Hal. Barry felt dizzy with pleasure, caught up in the way it felt when Hal bottomed out with each thrust. Hal was so free with his movements, with the words he murmured into Barry’s skin; he was an entirely open book that Barry eagerly leafed through.

And Barry hadn’t even touched  _ himself _ yet. Truth be told, Barry had almost forgotten; he was so wrapped up in the little noises Hal made, in the lazy pleasure on his face when they briefly locked gazes before closing their eyes again. Barry hadn’t been big on tugging Hal’s hair or holding on too hard before, but now he dug his nails (gently) into Hal’s shoulder, dragged his fingers through his hair when he lifted up to kiss him again. Hal’s rhythm faltered when Barry nipped, and he felt the slightest flicker of a smile against his lips.

And then there was a hand around his dick, and Barry  _ moaned. _

_ “Hal,” _ he gasped, arching up into his grip, “Hal,  _ Jesus-” _

He wasn’t patient with his strokes, Barry soon realised. His hips had sped up just a little to loosely match, and Barry forgot the stars that he’d seen before, because now there was  _ lightning _ crackling across his vision, sparking with the pleasure at the ends of his nerves. With Hal touching him, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer; really, he was impressed that he’d lasted this long given how much he’d been waiting for this exact scenario.

“Close,” Barry hissed. All he could do was cling to Hal for dear life; he wasn’t sure that he trusted his fingers to obey if he tried to do much else right now.

Hal just groaned wordlessly against his throat. His hand twisted around his dick, his grip a little tighter than it was before,  _ perfect _ in every way, and that was it for Barry. He  _ shivered _ underneath him as pleasure ripped through his system like a wildfire, clutching at Hal’s shoulders to keep him grounded; distantly, he was aware of Hal speeding up and then stopping suddenly, his breathing shaky against the crook of Barry’s neck.

He came down slowly. Clumsily, Barry stroked Hal’s hair as they just  _ existed _ together, floating along on the last hazy dregs of their orgasms. This was something that Barry had treasured since their relationship had changed properly; now, he was free to sink into bed with Hal after, to just touch him and kiss him until they finally felt like moving. There was nothing awkward about it, not like there had been before.

“That,” Hal mumbled, his voice muffled with the way he spoke into Barry’s shoulder, “was fucking  _ amazing.” _

“Yeah,” Barry sighed, stretching his legs one at a time. He didn’t quite want to release Hal just yet, so he settled them around him loosely again after, just to wrap around him like an octopus again. 

“Yeah? Good first experience?”

Barry laughed quietly. “Definitely.”

With what seemed like great effort, Hal propped himself up on his forearms, only to dip down again to brush their lips together. Barry met him halfway, greedy for it, guiding Hal down with the fingers in his hair. It was slow and easy, and it sent a few lingering tingles skating across Barry’s skin the longer they stayed pressed together.

Eventually, though, Hal made to move away, waiting a beat just to carefully pull out. There was a content smile on his face as he sat up, and Barry felt the tug of an answering one on his own mouth. Hal shuffled back on his knees a little, planted one foot on the floor as if to get up, and then he paused.

“Barry.”

His face flushed all over again at the low rasp of Hal’s voice. “Yeah?”

“You’re, uh…” Hal gestured towards him. His gaze was fixed below the waist, and Barry felt that blush prickle at his cheeks as it darkened. “You’re still hard.”

“Yeah, I…” Barry rubbed a hand across his face, wincing. “Speedster thing. It’s, uh… it’s like my metabolism? You know how I eat more than you? It’s like that, I just- It’s just my body speeding things up, we don’t have to-”

Hal cut him off with a kiss. Barry wasn’t sure how he’d missed Hal clambering back onto the bed to straddle him, but there Hal was, pressing him down into the mattress. Someone groaned and he wasn’t entirely sure who had started it, but then there was a hand skating down his stomach - never mind the come still drying there - to brush against his dick.

“I’m good for another round if you are,” Hal murmured. “Can’t fuck you again, but- Actually, hey, remember what I said about wanting to ride you?”

Barry whimpered. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“When you’ve got  _ this?” _ Hal gently squeezed around the head, grinning. “Not a chance.”

* * *

The fact that Ollie didn’t know only occurred to Barry when they next went out for drinks. There had been a long period where Ollie was simply too busy in both his day and hero jobs, which had worked out just fine for him and Hal; it had given them plenty of time to dedicate to each other, most of which had been spent in bed or various states of undress. Barry certainly wasn’t complaining, not when it was some of the best sex of his life, but he  _ did _ want to see the world outside the bedroom sometimes, too.

Hal was waiting for him at their usual table; he’d had to head home to Coast for work, which was both frustrating and not much of a problem at all given they were both heroes, but it still plucked at Barry’s heartstrings to see his smile. He waved as Barry stepped in, and Barry grinned at him in return as he flattened his hair self-consciously; hopefully, it didn’t look too windswept. A quick glance around the room told him exactly what he’d already suspected: Ollie wasn’t there.

“Hey,” Hal said, leaning in to peck his cheek fondly. “Ollie’s not here yet, he said he’s gonna be a little late. I grabbed us all drinks anyway.”

“Thanks.” Barry settled in with a sigh, leaning back into Hal’s arm where it laid across the back of his chair. It was a little obvious, really - he and Hal had been tactile even before all of this, but not quite to this extent in public. He hadn’t really thought too much about coming out to anyone, exactly; Barry had simply decided that their friends and colleagues could find out that he was with Hal instead, and he didn’t mind if they drew their own conclusions. He’d correct them if it came up, but otherwise, he was comfortable with just letting it go. He and Hal had always been a package deal, so this probably wouldn’t be much of a surprise. 

Hal fiddled with the ends of Barry’s hair idly as they waited. “How was the trip?”

“Nothing exciting,” Barry said. He leaned into Hal’s touch, enjoying the little tingle that raced across his skin at the brush of his fingertips. “You?”

“Eh.” Hal shrugged. “Scared some birds, that’s about it.” 

The door swung open, banging off of the wall as Ollie made his dramatic entrance. Barry snorted into his beer, but he returned Ollie’s wave before he made his way to the bar. 

“What’s he doing?” Hal murmured. Barry glanced over at him; he had a little frown on his face, a slight furrow between his brows, and it was ridiculously adorable. 

“Snacks, maybe?” Barry suggested.

Hal just hummed next to him. 

Ollie joined them eventually, setting down a few baskets of fries with a grin. “An apology for my lateness,” he said, dropping into the empty chair. “So, gentlemen, how are things?” His smile turned sharp. “Barry, how’s the love life?”

He almost choked on his drink. Next to him, Hal  _ did, _ snatching back his arm so he could thump himself on the chest. 

It had, admittedly, only just occurred to Barry that he had not only never mentioned Steven to Ollie, but he also hadn’t mentioned breaking off that relationship. Never mind the fact that he was with Hal now; Ollie thought he was still with someone else.

“I, uh.” Barry cleared his throat, spinning his bottle gently on the tabletop. “Eventful,” he said, inclining his head. “Things have…  _ changed. _ I’m not with the person I was dating before anymore.”

“Really?” Ollie asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Privately, Barry didn’t think that he  _ sounded _ very sorry - which would make sense, he supposed; Hal had mentioned he’d told Ollie how he felt while Barry was off dating Steven - but he dismissed it with an easy smile. “It’s fine, it was amicable. We’re still friends.”

“You’re always friends with your exes,” Hal teased, nudging him with an elbow. “I swear, I’ve gotta fight Iris for your attention most of the time.”

Barry laughed, but he flicked his gaze towards Ollie, waiting for some kind of recognition. Only, there was none; he just chuckled as he sipped his drink, and he smiled as he set it down again. If anything, he shot Hal a look with a single arched eyebrow, but Barry watched the same confusion he felt pass over Hal’s face, and then the moment was gone as quickly as it had arrived. 

Surely, Barry thought, Ollie hadn’t missed the way Hal draped his arm across the back of Barry’s chair again, or the easy way Hal leaned in to take the fry Barry offered him. He watched a brief moment of something pass between Ollie and Hal when it was his turn to buy drinks; he peered over at them from the bar, biting back a laugh when Hal’s frown deepened and deepened. The kindly bartender winked at him as she sent him on his way, seeming to share his good mood - but then again, she often did.

When they left, lightly buzzed, Barry was forced to conclude that Ollie was just that oblivious. Barry took Hal’s hand, and Ollie didn’t blink twice as he led them home.

“Blankets and pillows are in the usual place,” Ollie said, urging Hal and Barry into the house ahead of himself after a brief fight with the lock. 

And, well, Barry didn’t really want to spend the night squishing together on the same couch. While Ollie busied himself with his coat and his keys, Barry squeezed Hal’s hand to draw his attention; once he had it, he deliberately glanced up at the ceiling with a raised eyebrow. Hal smiled crookedly and nodded.

“Actually,” Barry said, interrupting Ollie’s cheerful babbling, “do you think we could use the spare room?”

Ollie paused, one hand still halfway through the sleeve of his jacket. “Uh… if you want. There’s only one bed, so you’ll have to share.”

“That’s the  _ point, _ Ollie,” Hal sighed, amused. He lifted their joined hands, wiggling them right in front of his face. “You know when you asked me how things were earlier and I said  _ ‘Yeah, man, they’re great’ _ ? You remember how I looked fucking confused when you asked if I’d said anything yet?”

Ollie blinked. For a moment, he didn’t speak, seeming to flounder at the sight of their fingers laced together, and then he finally huffed out a quiet laugh. “Well, in that case, spare bed’s all yours.” And then, beaming now, he added, “Hey, quick question: who made the first move?”

Barry raised his unoccupied hand. “I did.”

“Then if you’ll excuse me,” Ollie said, looking exactly like the cat that had got the cream, “I need to collect some money from my sleeping wife.”

He turned to head upstairs, but before he could get too far, Hal raced after him. “Wait, you bet  _ against _ me?” he demanded, chasing Ollie’s retreating footsteps. “Hey! You’re not getting out of this! I thought we were friends!”

“Barry’s my friend, too!” Ollie replied, distant now. 

Barry trailed after them, content to take it more slowly as he laughed at a muffled thump from the landing. Judging by the yelp, Hal had managed to tackle Ollie, and then as he climbed higher, yep, there was Hal demanding answers as they laughed breathlessly and batted at each other. Really, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was surprised that they were being childish and silly, but it was so charmingly  _ Hal _ that Barry didn’t really mind. 

Dinah, on the other hand, would  _ definitely _ mind.

Barry bit back a grin as he sidestepped the little scuffle. “I’m gonna go take a shower before bed.”

“Coming,” Hal said, immediately releasing Ollie. “I want in.”

“No fucking in my house,” Ollie groaned. When Hal ignored him with a cheerful middle finger and disappeared into the spare bedroom, he turned a pleading look on Barry instead. “Come on, I bet on you, man. Congrats and everything, but those are clean sheets, Barry.”

“I promise,” Barry said, resting a hand over his heart. “Good luck with waking up Dinah.”

Ollie paled just a little. “Gee, thanks,” he said dryly. “Have a good night, I guess.”

“We will!” Hal chirped, distant enough that Barry figured he was probably already in the bathroom. He was pretty sure he could hear clothing hitting the floor already. Ollie winced.

“Goodnight,” Barry said, smiling innocently. He closed the door as Ollie headed further down the hall to his own bedroom.

When he turned, Hal was there in the bathroom doorway, his head cocked. He was, indeed, already naked, and Barry took a moment to just admire the sight; Hal casually, comfortably bare did things for him, domestic and sweet things amongst the lazy stir of arousal. “Did mean what you said about no fucking in Ollie’s house?” Hal asked, eyebrows raised.

“Not exactly,” Barry admitted, grinning. “I mean, he only mentioned the sheets, so…”

Hal crossed the room to grab him by the hands. “God, do you have to be handsome  _ and _ smart?” he sighed, tugging him towards the bathroom. “I swear, you’re the  _ perfect _ guy, Bar, it’s not fair.”

Really, Barry thought, it was the other way around - Hal was perfect in every way: silly, handsome, intelligent,  _ fun _ \- but considering Hal was busy kissing him on their way to the shower, he let the compliment slide this time. There’d be plenty of opportunity to get Hal back, including when he pressed him into the mattress after they were clean and dry, where he whispered everything that he’d wanted to say since the moment he’d figured out how he felt. Hal was a puddle under him, reaching up only to cup Barry’s face and murmur sweet nonsense back to him as he tried to catch his breath.

So maybe they  _ did _ break the rule about the sheets. Barry changed them in the morning, even though he’d been careful to keep the mess away from them, and he ignored Ollie’s suspicious little look at breakfast.

* * *

It was still a little painful when Hal left for Oa, but the return was always that much sweeter. 

Hal showed up on his doorstep without fail, dinner already in a plastic bag over his arm as he swept Barry into a kiss. They ate on the couch, laughing over whatever movie they found and knocking their knees together fondly, and when things inevitably escalated, they didn’t always move to the bedroom - the couch still held a certain thrill with everything it had seen - but more often than not, that was where they ended up. It meant that there was a smoother transition into cuddling, into sharing the same space, and that was what Barry wanted the most.

In hindsight, it made sense. Hal was everything he’d wanted all along anyway - a friend as well as a partner - and he made everything seamless. 

This time, when Barry climbed into his lap on the couch, it was decidedly  _ not _ practice. It was the real thing, something he could have again and again, and he kissed Hal silly afterwards, too. He smiled at Barry breathlessly after, looking almost like he believed Barry hung the moon in the sky, and the strength of that love swept him off of his feet.

And now, when he drew Barry back in for another kiss, he went willingly,  _ eagerly, _ until he forgot quite who started it. 


End file.
